


Covenant: Ascension

by CrystalLifestream (AlleyCatSunflower)



Series: Covenant [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Drama, F/M, Pining, Political Alliances, Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 68,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24309907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyCatSunflower/pseuds/CrystalLifestream
Summary: As Nyx and Crowe launched into their usual friendly bickering, Lunafreya turned her gaze up to the dark sky, wishing she could see the stars. It was true that they took some time to emerge these days, until the night was natural, and the gloom made them fainter than usual even then. Still, they were there, and their multitude made Lunafreya feel less alone. Yet in Lestallum, it was all too likely that the lights would drown out the stars, even once they emerged properly.Tenebrae and Lucis have been allied against the empire for centuries, but they are fighting a losing war. After a decisive battle, Niflheim forces Tenebrae to surrender and takes the rebellious Prince Ravus captive. Fearing for the life of her brother and the safety of her people, Princess Lunafreya takes matters into her own hands and goes to Gralea to plead their case. However, Emperor Aldercapt’s clemency comes at a price: Lunafreya must replace her mother as Oracle, break her long-standing engagement to Prince Noctis of Lucis, and marry Chancellor Izunia of Niflheim instead.
Relationships: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret & Ravus Nox Fleuret, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Covenant [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754965
Comments: 43
Kudos: 76





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demiurge1992](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=demiurge1992).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one engagement is broken, another is established, and Ardyn is reminded why he hates having superiors.

It wasn't every day that a foreign princess waltzed into the imperial palace with the express intention of offering herself up on a silver platter… but, all things considered, her station was really the least of Ardyn's concerns.

"Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Your Radiance."

Ardyn had of course seen enough pictures of the Tenebraen princess to have prepared him for her likeness to the First Oracle, but his breath caught briefly nonetheless as Lady Lunafreya stepped into the room and glided toward the thrones. No photograph could capture the living, breathing beauty of the real thing. The sight of her soft and almost-familiar features might have been painful, if only Ardyn could feel such things anymore. As it was, he felt only a dull sense of déjà vu, and a rapidly sharpening sense of anger.

As Lady Lunafreya approached the throne with bowed head, thoughts Ardyn had long since quelled stirred and rose to the forefront once more, whispering a hateful name he had sworn to forget. Perhaps it had been an effort to snuff out that memory that had led Ardyn to encourage the use of such force against Tenebrae upon its recent rebellion. He would have liked to participate directly, but if the empire was still interested in preserving its most recently acquired territory—to say nothing of its reputation—there was little sense in leaving that particular battlefield a smoking ruin. (Even if the opposing side _had_ been led by a self-important, elitist prince of the sort Ardyn most despised.)

If Lady Lunafreya was any less of a liar than their ancestor, that prince's fate was the reason for her visit now.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Your Imperial Majesty," said Lady Lunafreya, sinking into a deep curtsy as she addressed Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt. Her voice was softer, but no less decisive, than that of the First Oracle. "In light of my brother's insurgence, I know you must have neither much time nor inclination to speak with me. You have my heartfelt gratitude for granting me an audience despite this."

As she spoke, Lady Lunafreya's eyes remained fixed on the emperor, shifting to Ardyn only once. He half-expected to see a flicker of horrified recognition, but her countenance remained quietly courageous, a spark of defiance all but smothered under submissive propriety. She really _was_ her own woman, then, guiltless but for her traitorous bloodline.

Iedolas evidently had no intention of indulging Lady Lunafreya's pleasantries with his own, whether sincere or meaningless. "I heard that you have come before me to plead your brother's innocence," he said instead, his voice as hard as the look in his eyes. "Is this true?"

Lady Lunafreya shook her head. "Your Radiance, I know that Ravus is far from innocent," she said, lowering her eyes in a gesture of deference. "He has paid you great insult in rebelling after the terms of our treaty were agreed upon, even if it has not yet been signed. Believe me, I do not intend to persuade you that he is not at fault."

Iedolas shifted in his throne. "Then what do you propose by coming here?"

"I wish to emphasize that although Ravus has done you wrong, he alone is not to blame," said Lady Lunafreya, looking back up. "Though he asked neither approval nor aid from House Fleuret, perhaps in an attempt to spare us your retribution, I failed to anticipate his actions and take preventative measures. In that sense… I share his sins."

Ardyn narrowed his eyes. Self-sacrifice was nothing new for the blood of the Oracle, even within his centuries of freedom, but with tendencies like these, it was a wonder the ruling family of Tenebrae had been able to hold out against Niflheim for so many centuries. Ardyn wasn't as much of a betting man as most people supposed, but he would still wager his reputation that Tenebrae's long-standing alliance with Lucis had been almost entirely responsible for the nation's longevity.

"You have not answered my question," said Iedolas imperiously.

Lady Lunafreya took a breath. "My brother has already lost his arm, and the empire has suffered little damage in the wake of his rebellion. I know that he is deserving of your wrath, but… I ask that you spare his life."

"You dare ask forgiveness for the insult he paid me?" asked Iedolas, rising stiffly from his throne, and glared down at Lady Lunafreya in a way that might have frozen a lesser woman's blood. "You dare spurn our proposed treaty and then ask my _pardon_? I should have Tenebrae burnt to the ground for your brother's transgression, and you ask that I spare his life!"

"Please, Your Radiance," said Lady Lunafreya, bowing her head low, but the way her knees bent was not from weakness. "Ravus is a proud man, able to endure any torment for the sake of an ideal, and will go to his death as a symbol of his own revolution with a smile on his lips. I promise you, even _threatening_ me will be a far more effective punishment for him than torture, and more than enough to ensure his cooperation. You need not take his life."

Ardyn tilted his head. Lady Lunafreya was not half as impassioned and irrational as her predecessors had often become when faced with threats. Rather, her composure was immaculate, her tone measured and decisive, and her words cool and persuasive. Whoever her father was, he must have finally introduced some good sense into the family. (Though it seemed to have skipped her brother.)

Iedolas relaxed, apparently impressed as well. "Interesting. Very interesting." He sank back into his throne, calmer now. "Now, speak plainly. What do you suggest I do?"

"First, I wish to ask that you preserve the treaty with Tenebrae," said Lady Lunafreya, too immediately for this not to have been rehearsed in some way. "I understand if some additional conditions must be made, given my brother's actions, but I beg of you, spare his life—and do not blame my mother. She was blind to all but Tenebrae's welfare in her preparations to honor your demands. _I_ saw the signs and did nothing, daring to hope I was wrong."

It did not escape Ardyn's notice that Lady Lunafreya made no mention of sparing her _own_ life, and he felt his lip curl slightly, disgust mingling with his interest. Evidently, what dissimilarities she and her brother had regarding keeping a level head did not extend to their willingness to declare themselves martyrs.

"Anything else?" asked Iedolas.

"I implore you not to exact retribution on the people of Tenebrae for Ravus's mistakes. Most of his followers have already lost their lives, and the rest are not likely to rise again after a display of such ferocity." Ardyn didn't believe that for a moment, but judging by Lady Lunafreya's clear countenance, _she_ did. Either she was the best liar Ardyn had ever encountered apart from himself, or she really was that naïve.

"The people of Tenebrae supported your brother," said Iedolas contemptuously. "Why should I stay my hand?"

"They are your people now, Your Radiance," said Lady Lunafreya, with all the calm cogency of true nobility. "Surely, as a wise and just ruler, you understand the value of mercy. Those who rebelled were a small minority, and they have now been silenced. The others have suffered enough from this war as it is."

Iedolas narrowed his eyes as if in contemplation, but his only response was, "You are dismissed. I will call you forth again when a verdict has been reached."

A shadow flitted across Lady Lunafreya's face—perhaps one of anger or disappointment, as though she had more to say and a mind to say it—but, whatever she may have been thinking, she had the wisdom to clear her expression and hold her tongue. Instead, she curtsied, glanced up deferentially at the emperor and then at Ardyn, and withdrew without a backward glance, escorted by the guards.

"Summon the council," said Iedolas, not looking at Ardyn.

The 'council', as he called it, was a ragtag smattering of high-ranking imperial officers, most of them military. In this case, it referred to Verstael, Caligo, Loqi, and Aranea—the last of whom Ardyn would not have invited had Iedolas not decided, for whatever reason, that she was a worthwhile addition to their ranks. Given her past as a mercenary, as well as the fact that she had clashed with the empire before they hired her, she ought to have been considered a wild card.

Thankfully, calling this council took only moments, since they were all in the palace on other business already. Those who hadn't been yesterday had been summoned upon Lady Lunafreya's reported arrival; otherwise, this would have taken a much longer time and tried much more of Ardyn's patience. As it was, only General Glauca was unable to attend, and _that_ was for entirely understandable reasons.

As soon as the others had all gathered, Ardyn took it upon himself to open the meeting and brief them on the situation, and cleared his throat. "Now, as I'm sure you all know, Niflheim finally stands on the brink of conquering Eos," said Ardyn, and all eyes turned to him, some more readily than others. "Lucis has been fighting a losing battle for years, and annexing Tenebrae means the kingdom of light won't be long after."

Aranea glanced skyward and opened her mouth, ostensibly to tell Ardyn to get to the point, but he raised his voice slightly to deter her. "That said, given the ex-prince's little uprising, the situation with Tenebrae is… unstable. Fortunately, it seems his sister, the fair Lady Lunafreya, has seen fit to give us a chance to turn it to our advantage." He glanced up toward Iedolas, careful to keep his tone light and ever-so-humble. "Motion to adjust the terms of the treaty, Your Radiance?"

"Granted," said Iedolas, tightening his grip on his throne's armrests. "The girl shall be put to death. Let her serve as an example for what awaits her people should they follow her brother's lead."

Letting out a short and hopefully inaudible breath, Ardyn shook his head. For all his love of vengeance, there was a time and a place. "With all due respect, Imperial Majesty, it would be unwise to take too much advantage of Lady Lunafreya's presence in the imperial capital. Tenebrae has already proven itself volatile enough to rebel, and she is more widely beloved than her brother. Destroying a symbol of peace as a _condition_ of peace is ill-advised."

"We must remember that Lady Lunafreya is not only the former princess of Tenebrae, but the future Oracle," agreed Verstael. Age had done very little to endear him to Ardyn, given his involvement in pressing him into service all those years ago, but in this case, he would take what support he could find. "Spilling too much of her blood may make our own citizens too sympathetic to the enemy."

"Perhaps she shouldn't be executed, then, but she should certainly be made an example of," said Caligo, crossing his arms. "I'm sure there are plenty of ways to get what we want."

"But Ravus was the one who tried to start a revolution, wasn't he?" asked Loqi, frowning. As usual, it seemed he was one step behind the discussion. "He should be the one to be punished, not Princess Lunafreya."

" _Former_ princess," Caligo corrected him.

"Am I the only one here who thinks peace is worth something?" demanded Aranea, interrupting Caligo and Loqi's latest squabble before it could get out of hand. "I think the empire needs to show Tenebrae _some_ kind of mercy. The people there have some of the longest memories I've ever come across, and they already think we're monsters. Trust me—they'll definitely hold a grudge if we prove them right."

Ardyn raised his eyebrows. Aranea did have a point, of course, but she had a bad habit of being contrary. Iedolas seemed to think the same, as he shook his head slowly. "Ulldor is right; a price must be paid. The Fleuret boy may have been responsible for the insurrection, but as his sister was kind enough to point out, punishing her will send more of a message than disciplining her brother."

Caligo gave a self-congratulatory smile at Iedolas's approval, but Aranea wasn't finished. "Yeah, but like the chancellor here said, it might also push Tenebrae back into opposition," she retorted, putting a hand on her hip. "Not to mention, once we win this war, working with Lucis is gonna be damn near impossible if we hurt its prince's fiancée. Assuming that's something any of you actually care about."

Ardyn cleared his throat in preparation to send Aranea out of the room, but unfortunately, Verstael saw something of value in her words, and spoke first. "The prince's fiancée, you say," he repeated, looking up with clear eyes. "Now that you mention it, perhaps His Imperial Majesty is right. Lady Lunafreya ought to pay the price for Tenebrae's betrayal. But not with her life."

Several pairs of eyes widened slightly in recognition of the plan, including Ardyn's, but not all. "Then with what?" asked Loqi, frowning.

"With her hand in marriage," said Verstael, looking smug at the chance to explain his brilliant plan, and Ardyn let out a carefully measured sigh. "At the expense of the Lucian royal family. It would be wise to keep the future Oracle in our power, and far away from Lucis."

"And why the _future_ Oracle?" added Caligo, smiling somewhat unpleasantly. "Even if we let Lady Sylva keep her meaningless crown, we can always force her to pass on her other title and powers to her daughter. Especially if she is to marry into the empire."

Iedolas inclined his head. "You make a fair point, Besithia. As do you, Ulldor."

"If I might add something," interjected Ardyn. "As the commodore has so astutely observed, the people of Tenebrae are as loyal and stubborn as Lady Lunafreya herself. Give them a reason, and they'll follow her anywhere, including into the empire." He straightened up with all the authority of his station. "But if Ravus was able to stir up a revolution without any extra provocation, we must sweeten the deal, so to speak. It needn't be anything major, but it should at least be enough for Tenebrae to surrender. Gladly."

"And what do you propose?"

"Granting the rebellious lord clemency is a good start," said Ardyn, straightening his hat. "But if, as a gesture of goodwill, we were to restore the use of his arm to him…"

Loqi scowled. "General Glauca took that arm from him in single combat."

" _General Glauca_ isn't here to object," said Ardyn delicately.

"If I were to craft a magitek arm, the former prince would be indebted to the empire," said Verstael slowly, with an unusual air of thinking aloud. Normally, his nefarious plans were crafted long before he revealed them. "Thus, he will be less likely to cause trouble in the future, and more likely to face severe repercussions from both sides if he does."

"You sure?" asked Aranea, leaning toward Verstael slightly as if to scrutinize him. "Seems like a bit of a sore spot. Even if we gave the ex-prince something like that, I wouldn't put it past him to spit in our faces and send it back."

Verstael shook his head. "Contrary to what his actions imply, Ravus is no fool. I have little doubt that he understands his situation perfectly."

There was a generally approving pause. Even Aranea, always the first to speak out of turn, was silenced, though that didn't last more than a moment. "So… we'll give Ravus his arm back, name Lunafreya the Oracle, and marry her into the empire," she said, shaking her head as though the plan was ludicrous, but did not voice any further protest. "Who's the lucky spouse-to-be? I've got half a mind to volunteer, myself, but I get the feeling that's not what you're going for."

Everyone glanced at Iedolas, but no one spoke. The emperor was, technically speaking, the logical choice. However, in his case, marrying a Tenebraen would be as much a curse as a blessing. Tenebrae would be displeased at the prospects of handing their former princess off to an old, cruel madman, and the citizens of Niflheim would be equally as disapproving of their ruler taking an outsider for a bride. (And besides, Iedolas was far more interested in the Crystal at present than he had ever been in remarriage.)

"I hadn't considered getting married so early in my career," mumbled Loqi, daring to speak when the silence went unbroken. "But if I were ordered to do so, for the sake of the empire…" He trailed off, coloring slightly, and Ardyn smirked. Anything for the glory of Niflheim, of course. No ulterior motives whatsoever.

Caligo cleared his throat. "A former princess should marry someone appropriately _high-ranking_ ," he said pointedly, and the two of them exchanged a challenging glare. Caligo may have been a great deal subtler than Loqi, but it was clear that he intended to volunteer himself as well.

Aranea caught on, and pulled a face. "Well, General Glauca's the highest-ranking military commander there is, but all that armor might get in the way. I don't think anyone's ever seen his face." She glanced around as if hoping to see him lurking somewhere in the back of the hall. "Where'd that big lug get off to, anyway?"

Again, no one answered her, mostly because no one could. Glauca's doings were hidden to all but the highest-ranking members of the Niflheim government. Among those assembled, only Iedolas, Verstael, and Ardyn himself knew of his double agency. Even then, Glauca's motives were primarily his own.

When no one spoke again, Ardyn opened his mouth to move the subject off the missing general, if only so no one would dwell on the reason for his absence. But before he could speak, Iedolas turned his head unexpectedly to look over at him. "Chancellor Izunia."

"Oh, I'm just enjoying the debate, Your Radiance," said Ardyn, blinking a few times at being so suddenly addressed. There were more than enough suggestions already, and any one of them would prove entertaining enough as a solution. "I'm afraid I haven't anything to add."

But Iedolas shook his head. "Lady Lunafreya shall marry _you_."

More silence. Ardyn found himself, for once in his very long life, utterly speechless. During Lady Lunafreya's audience, he had forced himself to suppress all thoughts of her likeness to a woman he now hated twice as much as he had ever loved—a woman to whom he had once been engaged, and was now glad he had never married. Must he now take the hand of her spitting image?

Once Ardyn finally remembered to look around at the others, he saw that everyone else present was just as shocked, though it seemed Verstael and Aranea's amusement was beginning to prove stronger than their surprise. Iedolas, meanwhile, seemed entirely unmoved. "You have demonstrated your abilities and your allegiance time and time again. You may consider this union a reward for all your loyal service."

"I… thank you humbly, Your Imperial Majesty," said Ardyn, bowing somewhat more awkwardly than usual, "but if your intent is to reward me, I would much prefer my continued freedom. I'm hardly the marrying kind, but young Loqi seemed interested enough in the idea."

Loqi opened his mouth, wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked, but Caligo was the one to speak, impatient and abrasive as ever. "He is still too far beneath her station."

"Lady Lunafreya is the former princess of Tenebrae, and she has been engaged to the crown prince of Lucis these twelve years," added Verstael. "If we request that she break her betrothal only to force her into a less prudent match, that contradicts your own recommendation that we ease Tenebrae into its surrender… Chancellor."

"Tenebrae will not be pleased with breaking Lady Lunafreya's engagement regardless of our conditions," pointed out Ardyn, trying to keep a level head. "Her new groom will draw their ire no matter _who_ he is."

"Are you incapable of dealing with Tenebraen threats, Chancellor?" asked Iedolas.

"No, of course not, but that is not wh—"

"Then I foresee no major problems," interrupted Iedolas, a stubborn glint in his pale eyes. "As a diplomat, you have proven yourself more than capable of making the best of any situation. I cannot understand why you are so convinced that this matter will be any different."

"Looking after the Oracle will interfere with my duties as chancellor," protested Ardyn, increasingly more frustrated. He was unaccustomed to losing arguments, and it was not often that so many dared to defy him at once. Being backed by the emperor himself probably served to embolden the others. He would have to find some way of isolating Iedolas if he wanted to work on him.

"And what _are_ your duties, exactly?" asked Aranea, crossing her arms.

"Mind your tone, Commodore," retorted Ardyn. Pulling rank was hardly his favorite method of quieting opposition, but if it would stop this line of questioning, he was more than willing.

"I, too, am curious," supplied Caligo.

Ardyn narrowed his eyes. The two of them had scarcely agreed on anything since Aranea was first hired. "Classified. But I must always be ready to move at a moment's notice to wherever I am needed."

"Lady Lunafreya's duties as Oracle will also require extensive travel," said Verstael dismissively. "Besides, your union is primarily symbolic. You needn't spend your every waking moment by her side." He smiled knowingly. "Though I'm sure no man could blame you if you did."

"Are there any further objections?" asked Iedolas, his voice taut in warning.

Recognizing his defeat, Ardyn took a deep breath. He was backed into a corner, and there was no hope of persuading the emperor while the others remained. They had always been a nuisance, but now they were a _menace_. "Not at present."

Verstael and Iedolas exchanged a small, somewhat smug smile. Loqi scowled, but said nothing, and Caligo seemed at a loss for how he should feel. Aranea, however, grinned. "Looks like even you can't always get what you want, Chancellor," she said, but sobered even as she spoke. "But I gotta say, I feel kinda sorry for the poor girl. I can't imagine you having and holding, and all that." She grimaced. "Not sure I _want_ to, either."

"Dismissed," announced Iedolas, almost interrupting Aranea.

Recognizing the end of their meeting, the officers bowed as one and took their leave with many murmurs and backward glances. Ardyn, however, remained behind. He would have to see if he could shake the emperor's resolve, now that the others were no longer there to oppose him.

Once the doors closed again, Ardyn circled around to stand before the throne, and cleared his throat. "Your Imperial Majesty," he began, keeping his tone as imploring as he could. "I beg of you to reconsid—"

"You are trying my patience, Chancellor," snapped Iedolas, turning to Ardyn with a frigid expression that might have intimidated him some millennia ago. "Any further attempts to dissuade me are futile. I will make this an order if necessary."

Ardyn stared for a moment in disbelief. It seemed Iedolas's feeble mind was made up, and he would have to go through with his wishes if he wanted to keep his station. "You are dismissed," continued Iedolas, stern and uncompromising. "I will send for you early tomorrow morning to finalize the arrangements, that you may inform Lady Lunafreya personally."

"I understand, Your Radiance," said Ardyn, very reluctantly, and bowed low before leaving the hall, resisting the urge to look back in pure disbelief.

Slinking off to his own quarters, he found that his head was as full of doubts as daemons. Perhaps it wasn't worth it. No one here could stop him if he turned his back on Niflheim, and he didn't need them nearly as much as they needed him. But the empire was doing such a marvelous job of helping Ardyn spread the darkness. He would be much less efficient by himself, and he would rather not slow their progress. And it did admittedly feel exhilarating to have some real authority, to be in charge of _something_. Wandering off on his own would be terribly unsatisfying after thirty-odd years of building a reputation and, in a sense, reclaiming his following.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen if Ardyn were to get married? (He had already heard his fate in no uncertain terms; tempting it could do him no harm now.) If anything, it might make his job all the easier, given that he could extinguish the Oracle's light more easily if she were forced to remain at his side. Or, more enticingly still—if a god could be corrupted, why not their beloved priestess?

Ardyn smiled at the thought, his heart lightening again sooner than he anticipated. Perhaps wedded bliss might suit him better than he imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, fellow Lunardynites! I come bearing a gift for you, which I hope I can update at a halfway decent pace… but given that I've had this idea in my head for over two years now, hopes are not high. Still, I figured I may as well post the first chapter, since I have enough of a plot trajectory for that much to be justified. Besides, if nothing else, the guilt of having already posted one installment might be enough to spur me on toward more…
> 
> At any rate, hope you enjoy!


	2. Imprisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya confirms the extent to which her life is about to fall apart, and informs her brother that his life has been spared.

"His Imperial Majesty is ready to meet with you, my lady."

Lunafreya started, stirring in the armchair, and opened her eyes. She must have dozed off out of sheer exhaustion, having spent a largely sleepless night in her assigned room. But she could not afford to let her condition show, not even in her voice. "Thank you," she said, rising from her seat and stretching, trying to determine what time it was. From what she could tell from the light around the curtains, it was still early morning, sooner than she anticipated being summoned.

The door unlocked with a mechanical click, as though in direct response to Lunafreya's gratitude. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts and prepared herself for the unknown as best she could. Even the long hours since yesterday's audience hadn't helped her formulate a real plan beyond what she had already done, given that there were still so many variables. All that remained had been to wait.

Having left her cell phone in the manor, knowing the imperial officials would undoubtedly confiscate and examine it, Lunafreya had been forced to spend the better part of last night contemplating her situation alone. Eventually, she'd given herself over to the hope that this day would not be her last on this star, but that hadn't kept her from thinking over suitable parting words, just in case.

After all, Lunafreya had not been bluffing during her audience yesterday. As the princess of Tenebrae and the future Oracle, she was beyond willing to give anything for her people, easily a match for her less tactful brother. And, not having included her own safety in her requests of the empire, she knew all too well that they could take her life. They had the _right_ to take her life. She had known that much even before her audience, and even though it had gone better than she expected, she couldn't help but anticipate the worst today.

One more hesitation, and Lunafreya stepped out into the hall, allowing the door to close behind her. Two faceless attendants stood ready to escort her, and though one of them must have called for her, neither spoke again.

They walked in silence. Lunafreya kept her eyes down the whole way, not wanting to be seen as looking for a chance to escape. Yet, even so, she couldn't help taking note of the turns as they navigated the palace, keeping track of the route from her guest room to the throne room. She didn't intend to run, of course, but it made her feel a little more in control of her situation somehow. Yesterday, she had been preoccupied with rehearsing her speech to the emperor. Today, she had nothing else to occupy her restless thoughts, and she refused to be ruled by fear.

With Lunafreya consciously observing her own steps, the walk felt either too long or too short; she wasn't sure which. Either way, they eventually came to a stop at the grand double doors leading into the throne room, and the attendants stood aside as one. As the guards opened up the doors, Lunafreya had no choice but to say one last silent prayer and venture inside.

Once again, the only officials present were Emperor Aldercapt and Chancellor Izunia—no sign of a jury or executioner—but Lunafreya was more on her guard than ever. Both the men before her were emblematic of everything she hated about the empire, and she knew all too well that she was entirely in their power. Whatever they decided, she would need to go along with it as willingly as possible to ensure the best outcome for Tenebrae.

It was not an agreeable thought. Halting a respectful distance away, Lunafreya would have been well within her rights to shudder from revulsion, but she forced herself to curtsy instead, keeping her eyes downcast. All that remained was for Emperor Aldercapt to deliver her sentence.

However, Chancellor Izunia was the first to break the silence, and Lunafreya couldn't help but look up again as he spoke. "I'm sure you must be curious about our verdict." Lunafreya had not heard him speak often, but his condescendingly exaggerated manner seemed to suit him in a way she could not quite explain. "Doubtless you'll be pleased to hear that the empire has graciously chosen to extend its mercy."

Lunafreya dared not let her astonishment show, but Chancellor Izunia must have guessed it, judging by his faint smile. To her additional surprise, he let her adjust to the idea for a moment before he continued, "His Imperial Majesty has decided that your brother will be pardoned for his little transgression, and granted a magitek prosthetic to make him whole again."

"I thank you for your clemency, Your Radiance," murmured Lunafreya, curtsying deeply as she addressed the emperor, though her heart beat as quickly as ever. Such magnanimity must have a steep price indeed; there was no way that was the extent of their decision.

"However," continued Chancellor Izunia, speaking the word Lunafreya had expected and dreaded, "in exchange for amnesty, _Lady_ Sylva must step down as Oracle of the Six and bequeath that position to you. And…" Chancellor Izunia lingered over the word, almost gloating, as Lunafreya struggled with her apprehension. "It is with the greatest regret that I inform you that you must break your engagement to Prince Noctis, and marry into the empire instead."

Lunafreya's heart froze. She had known, ever since her mother had decided to surrender to Niflheim, that she would not be allowed to wed Noctis as planned, but she had never expected that she would be asked to marry someone else so soon. It was lucky that they had done nothing to prepare her for this, because her shock dulled the misery she was certain she'd feel acutely as soon as she had another moment to herself.

Though Lunafreya waited for someone to at least tell her who they intended as her partner, assuming they had thought of one, they seemed satisfied to wait for her to ask. There had already been a few moments of awkward silence, so she elected not to prolong it, glancing between the men before her. "And… who is to be my bridegroom?"

Lunafreya dared not either hope for or dread any answer they might give, forcing herself not to think too far ahead. She half thought they would refuse her an immediate response in the interest of maximizing her discomfort, but instead, a reply came upon the instant. "Why, yours truly, of course," said Chancellor Izunia, bowing low, and rose again with a smile that stopped Lunafreya's heart all over again.

She had no time to process this information. A response was expected of her, preferably a favorable one. Suppressing her growing distress, Lunafreya curtsied deeply, keeping her eyes respectfully low. "It is an honor, sir," she said, trying to think of a tactful way of expressing her concerns by the time she straightened up again. "But… I feel I must inform you that Tenebrae had hoped to be able to encourage Lucis to follow in our footsteps and surrender. I understand that I must break my engagement, but to marry into the empire so quickly afterward may make that process much more difficult."

"With all due respect, my lady, the leaders of _Lucis_ , not Tenebrae, are responsible for the fate of their own nation," said Chancellor Izunia, tilting his head. The motion was almost imperceptible, but combined with the slightly arrogant curve of his lips, Lunafreya found it repulsive. How dare he dismiss her in such a way? "Lucis has much more to lose than Niflheim if this war goes on, and if King Regis cannot understand that on his own, then perhaps he does not deserve his crown in the first place."

Though a sharp chill of anger flooded Lunafreya's veins, addressing Chancellor Izunia's comment directly might place Tenebrae in jeopardy, so she forced herself to ignore it. "I understand," she said, trying to keep the coldness out of her voice, and glanced up at the emperor. There were more important things to consider. "Then, given the necessity of my immediate assimilation into the empire, if I might make a single additional request as a wedding gift…"

Lunafreya knew better than to get her hopes up that another condition would be accepted, but was once again surprised as Emperor Aldercapt inclined his head. "Continue."

Perhaps there was still a chance for peace, then. Lunafreya knew she must not ruin it by letting her passion get the better of her. "While I am not qualified to speak on behalf of Lucis, nor do I have the right to impose any extra terms, I wish the empire to extend a similar offer of peace to Lucis," she said as calmly as she could, bowing her head, as much because she did not dare to look at their expressions as out of humility. "The line of Lucis may be proud, but I know they seek an end to the fighting as much as Tenebrae. And, to that end, I also wish the people of Tenebrae to be spared from direct conflict with their former allies."

Though Lunafreya expected to be shot down immediately, once again she was disarmed, as Chancellor Izunia turned to Emperor Aldercapt almost as though it had been scripted for him to do so. "What say you, Your Radiance?"

The emperor did not stir, his eyes boring stonily into Lunafreya's. "It will be done."

Lunafreya did not hesitate before curtsying again. That was an undeniably generous concession, regardless of the sacrifices that had to have been made to secure it. "You have my heartfelt gratitude, as well as my consent to these new conditions." She paused, taking a brief moment to find the right words. They had been gracious enough to pardon her brother, but had given her no further details. "Will Ravus be returning home with me, or remaining in imperial custody?"

"Your brother may accompany you to Tenebrae if he so wishes," said Emperor Aldercapt, though his tone was disapproving. Clearly, he was not fond of the idea of releasing a prisoner. (Lunafreya wondered how many of the new terms had really been his decision, as opposed to the chancellor's.) "But should he remain behind, Minister Besithia will be able to fit him for his prosthetic sooner."

"I understand," said Lunafreya, clasping her hands before her. "May I see him?"

"But of course," said Chancellor Izunia, bowing again, and sauntered forward until he stood just before Lunafreya. He was much taller than she thought, towering several inches above her even with her heeled shoes. "As your husband-to-be, I will accompany you. I should like to visit my future brother-in-law."

Lunafreya could not help her rush of dislike at the prospects of spending any more time in this man's company, but dipped her head all the same. It couldn't be avoided, especially since—as he had been so kind as to point out—they would be married someday, likely soon. That part of their bargain still didn't feel real, and Lunafreya doubted it ever would, even when the time came for her to walk down the aisle. "Thank you, Chancellor."

Rather than pass Lunafreya by, Chancellor Izunia grinned as though just having recalled something funny. "Oh, but before we go, it seems I've forgotten something," he said, and sank to one knee with an unwarranted flourish. Taking her right hand, he slipped a plain golden band onto her ring finger, seemingly out of nowhere, and she had to force herself not to shudder at his touch. Such a trinket would serve not only as a reminder of a reluctant promise, but a way of marking her as belonging to the empire. To _him_.

Chancellor Izunia seemed pleased enough, however, as he straightened up again. After turning Lunafreya's hand this way and that to admire the ring glinting in the light, he finally lowered it again, a smile playing about his lips. "Now that _that's_ over with, my lady, let us meet with your brother," he said, finally beckoning her to follow him. "After that, you may return to Tenebrae, share the good news, and await further instructions."

Not daring to follow Chancellor Izunia immediately, Lunafreya first turned to Emperor Aldercapt and curtsied one last time. That much was only polite, given her position, and seemed to please the emperor as well. "I will convey the modifications of the treaty to my mother, that we may finalize our agreement as soon as may be."

"The blessings of the Six go with you," said the emperor, and though his eyes were flinty as ever, his tone was a little softer than Lunafreya expected. For a moment, she thought she saw the emperor free of his madness, a fragment of humanity lingering in his traditional words. More than she sensed from the chancellor, ironically, for all his jovial appearance—Chancellor Izunia, her husband-to-be, a man she barely knew and trusted even less.

* * *

Lunafreya had not been in many dungeons, and after today, she never wanted to set foot in a dungeon again.

Even the fact that Emperor Aldercapt's residence _had_ dungeons was cause for alarm, as far as she was concerned; the Tenebraen royal family kept its few prisoners far from the manor. But, more unnervingly still, this area had apparently been remodeled less recently than the other parts of the palace, so it felt mismatched. The floor in the corridor was medieval stonework, and the ceiling was hewn from dark rock, yet the cells seemed clean and sterile like hospital rooms. (Though Lunafreya supposed that was better than the other way around.)

Not all of the cells they passed were occupied, at least from what little Lunafreya could tell, but as a prominent political prisoner, Ravus was still being held in the farthest possible section from the dungeon entrance. Or at least, Lunafreya assumed it was the farthest; Chancellor Izunia had escorted her through three separate checkpoints.

Finally, they reached an area that looked a little more modern than the others. Perhaps it had been added later, for higher-security prisoners. It was also completely devoid of life, not even a guard to suggest that anyone was kept here at all, and all the cell doors were closed. Lunafreya had no way of knowing which was Ravus's until Chancellor Izunia came to a somewhat abrupt stop and indicated a door with a wave of his hand. "Therein you should find your brother, my lady."

Lunafreya hesitated. "May we have a moment alone?"

"No, you may not," said Chancellor Izunia, but his tone was so casual that he might have said _of course_. "You may have as many moments alone as you like upon your return to Tenebrae, but until then, we cannot run the risk of an additional rebellion. You understand." Lunafreya bowed her head, and Chancellor Izunia smiled at her a little bit sharply. "Nevertheless, if it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't come in with you for all of Tenebrae's wealth. I'm not particularly fond of dungeons."

Chancellor Izunia extended his hand as he finished speaking, which was a good thing, because his proffered keycard distracted Lunafreya from how effortlessly he could anger her with his pointed phrasing. She accepted the keycard with a slight curtsy before moving forward to investigate the locking mechanism, not wanting to make any humiliating mistakes, and finally swipe the card in the correct direction.

The door slid open, and Ravus looked up from his position sitting on his bench, haggard and one-armed, but still alive, if not well. Not that Niflheim hadn't taken care of him to an exent—his cell was large and clean and outfitted with a bathroom, and his shoulder was bandaged properly—but he was still imprisoned and clearly miserable. Or, he might have been, but for the shock in his eyes at seeing Lunafreya.

" _Ravus_ ," was all she could say at first, her throat aching from the sudden urge to cry, and moved rapidly forward to try and help him up by his remaining arm. She had not realized how badly she needed to see him until he sat before her, there and solid and clearly alive beneath her fingers.

"Lunafreya," said Ravus breathlessly, rising somewhat awkwardly, and Lunafreya supported him as he swayed in place. His balance must have been thrown off somewhat now that he was missing a limb. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I came to fetch you," said Lunafreya, embracing Ravus as gently as she could while she felt so tense, and he rested his arm on her back and his chin on her head. His heartbeat under her ear was more reassuring than anything else she had heard ever since entering Gralea. "You've been pardoned."

"Pardoned?" echoed Ravus, and Lunafreya stepped back and looked up to find him frowning at the still-open cell door. "I know full well my crimes are punishable by death; I prepared myself for that fate long ago. How can I have been forgiven?"

"The situation has changed," said Lunafreya, tracing Ravus's gaze to the door before returning her eyes to his face. "I'll explain more later. For now, you are to either come home with me, or remain in Gralea to be fitted for a magitek prosthetic to replace the arm you lost." She took a deep breath, mostly to avoid revealing her nervousness by speaking too quickly. "It may be simpler if you—"

"Lunafreya," interrupted Ravus, and Lunafreya realized with an unpleasant jolt that his eyes had fixed themselves on her engagement ring. "What was the price of my freedom?"

Instinctively, Lunafreya covered the ring, as though hiding it could undo her promise. Noctis had not yet given her one, and there was no reason for Ravus to suppose that had changed, or she'd use that as a temporary excuse. "I told you, I'll explain later," she said, making a great effort to keep her voice smooth and steady. "What is important right now is that you and Tenebrae are both safe."

When Ravus said nothing, Lunafreya tried to herd him out of the cell, but he did not budge an inch. Instead, he rested his arm against his chest, and Lunafreya got the feeling he would be crossing his arms if he could. "I insist on knowing what you had to trade away before I leave this place, Sister."

Ravus's eyes were fiery blue, insistent, demanding enough that Lunafreya knew there would be no moving him until she complied. "In exchange for your safe return," said Lunafreya, meeting his eyes as best she could, "Mother will bequeath to me her position as Oracle, and I will marry into Niflheim."

"Lunafreya!" exclaimed Ravus, and the helpless fury in his tone struck Lunafreya like a bolt of lightning so that she flinched. "I will not reclaim my life at the expense of my family!"

"Ravus," pleaded Lunafreya, tugging at his wrist in an effort to lead him out, feeling suddenly like a little girl again. Her brother had never directed such anger toward her in their lives, much less in her childhood, but there had been times when she had felt this helpless. However, even as a child, she was still a princess. Now, in this dungeon, she held almost no power at all.

"I refuse to accept the empire's _gift_ ," snapped Ravus, practically snarling, and Lunafreya understood for the first time the full extent of his hatred. It was not that she had been unable to see her wayward brother as the rebel who tried to take on the entire imperial army. It was only that she had never seen firsthand this intensity of rage contorting his features. "Let them execute me if it means you and Mother can live in peace!"

" _Ravus_ ," said Lunafreya, more sharply now, and to her surprise, her brother fell silent. "I have already agreed to these modified terms, and Mother will sign the treaty as soon as possible. This is no longer open to negotiation." She took Ravus's hand, lowering her voice, but did not soften her words. "Do you mean to render my sacrifice meaningless?"

Though Ravus struggled for a moment to find words, looking somewhere between sullen and furious, he soon gave up. As Lunafreya felt him relax, more out of resignation than anything else, she led him out of the cell, keeping her arm around his waist to support him as he wavered slightly in his steps.

Chancellor Izunia awaited them, his usual faint smile still touching his lips. (Lunafreya wondered if he was even capable of looking impassive.) "I don't believe your sister said as much, but you may accompany her back to Tenebrae if you wish," he said to Ravus, beckoning him and Lunafreya to follow as he led them back through the dungeons. "However, it may be in your best interests to stay behind another week or so, the better to fit you with your new arm."

"If staying longer now means I never have to return, then I'll stay," said Ravus shortly. "So long as it isn't in that cell."

"Oh, I assure you that most of our accommodations are grander than yours," said Chancellor Izunia smoothly, and Lunafreya got the feeling he was not merely talking about the cell, but about Tenebrae. "Perhaps you can take Lady Lunafreya's room, now that she'll be vacating it. I'm sure she can attest to its coziness."

"It _was_ a very comfortable room," said Lunafreya, all too aware how unconvincing she sounded. It had been beautifully decorated and nicely furnished, but even the softness of the bed had not enticed her to sleep.

Ravus made a small derisive noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a humorless laugh and an exaggerated retch. "The room, and however comfortable it may be, is irrelevant. If I never come here again, it will be too soon."

"Now, now, don't be like that," said Chancellor Izunia, glancing over his shoulder. "You'll need to visit your dear sister now and again, won't you? Since she'll be a married woman before long."

Silent resentment rolled off Ravus in waves, but Chancellor Izunia seemed entirely impervious, pausing in their walk to talk to a guard in a low voice, perhaps delivering instructions. Lunafreya, tightening her grip slightly on her brother's waist, could only be glad that the chancellor hadn't seen fit to mention his identity as her future husband. That much might be more than either she or Ravus could take.

* * *

The rest of the journey out of the dungeons passed in silence, with only Chancellor Izunia at ease.

Perhaps it was how slowly they had to move, with Ravus evidently unused to walking, but Lunafreya felt she would never see the daylight again. Emerging from the dungeons was a relief unto itself, but her anxiety was quickly replaced by apprehension as she found a few attendants waiting.

"Now, _Lord_ Ravus, if you'll be so kind as to acccompany them," said Chancellor Izunia, gesturing to the servants, and bowed slightly, though kept his gaze fixed on Ravus's face. The disrespect was subtle enough, but certainly noticeable for a former prince, as Ravus narrowed his eyes in intense dislike. "Your appointment awaits. I look forward to seeing how your new arm will suit you."

Ravus let out a long breath, squeezing Lunafreya's shoulder before following the servants without so much as a word. Clearly, he was still frustrated with Lunafreya's choice, even if his touch told her that he loved her, too. She could only watch him go, praying that they intended to stand by their word, that no further harm would come to him.

"Sacrifice, is it?" asked Chancellor Izunia, glancing at Lunafreya sideways, and she frowned slightly, confused. "I thought you said our engagement was an honor."

Recalling her phrasing to Ravus all at once, Lunafreya blushed slightly, but made a concerted effort to meet Chancellor Izunia's eyes. "Sometimes it is more effective to bend the truth in order for others to see it clearly," she said, placing her hands carefully before her. Technically speaking, neither statement was a lie. "I would have thought you'd understand that paradox better than anyone else."

Chancellor Izunia smiled. "Well said, my lady," he said, beckoning her to follow him. This time, he did not lead her back toward the throne room, but somewhere else entirely. "Now, as I understand it, our parting moment is at hand."

"How am I to return to Tenebrae?"

"Gralean trains are known for their punctuality," said Chancellor Izunia. "There is one scheduled to arrive each hour upon the hour, and you should be able to make the next one if you leave the palace now. I trust you'll be able to tell which is your stop." They turned a corner and arrived at a door, outside which another servant waited. Chancellor Izunia must have conveyed a message somehow, asking them to wait there. "Now, I must be off, but I'm sure this lovely attendant will be just as effective a guide to the station."

"Thank you, Chancellor," said Lunafreya, somewhat uncertainly. Having grown up thinking of the servants in Fenestala Manor a bit like extended family, she always felt a little awkward ignoring servants like this one entirely, but clearly, servants in the imperial palace were used to being seen and not heard. "For everything."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all." Chancellor Izunia kissed the back of Lunafreya's hand, and she winced automatically at the prickle of his stubble—or perhaps at the thrill of foreboding. "And please, call me Ardyn."


	3. Severance and Perseverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya returns home to break the news to her mother… and her ex-fiancé.

Fenestala Manor had never inspired such dread before.

The house was almost silent. Most of the servants had been expelled, replaced with imperial soldiers to patrol the grounds. Only Maria was there to greet Lunafreya upon her arrival and, after embracing her and trying in vain not to cry, brought her to her room to freshen up. Though her duty had been fulfilled just with this, it was only after a long hesitation and a warm smile that she departed again.

Taking off her ring as soon as she could (and belatedly hoping that Maria hadn't caught sight of it), Lunafreya set it down on her nightstand and moved into the adjacent bathroom to draw herself a bath. As the tub filled with warm water, she moved to her dresser as if in a dream, turning on her cell phone more than a little apprehensively. Waiting for the signal to kick in was torturous, but not as much as after it actually did, as she found several text messages and an agitated voicemail.

The texts were all from her mother, catching her up on recent minor developments and wishing her courage and clarity. She must not have remembered that Lunafreya had told her she'd be leaving her phone behind, but her sentiment seemed to have made it through anyway.

The voicemail, however, was another matter entirely.

 _Luna, what the hell is going on?_ Noctis was practically yelling, his voice tremulous, edged with panic. _Dad says Tenebrae surrendered to the Niffs, but he won't tell me what that means for Lucis—for us. Are we supposed to be enemies now?_ He took a shaky breath. _I heard something happened with Ravus. Is he alive? Are you okay? You have to call me back!_

Noctis must have been desperate, to try the least secure method of contact available to them. Official business was supposed to go through the house, though Lunafreya supposed that was being watched more carefully than usual since Niflheim's takeover, too. And in any case, she hadn't been there to receive it, though she'd certainly need to call him back at some point.

That was a thought Lunafreya had no strength to entertain. Setting her phone down again, she had to remind herself to breathe, and returned to the bathroom to turn off the water. Slipping out of her clothes and into the warm bath, she worked on convincing her tense muscles to relax, grateful for the familiar comforts of her own room.

Lunafreya must have drifted off again, because the next thing she knew, a presence intruded on her consciousness, and she found herself opening her eyes. "Gentiana," she said, feeling the temperature cooling, and turned her head to find her standing in the doorway, eyes closed as usual.

"The home is as relieved to hold the lady as she is to be home," said Gentiana, the corners of her dark lips tugging up slightly. Lunafreya could give only a wan smile in response, stretching. "With her light gone, there has been too much darkness here. It is good to see her unharmed."

"Yes," was all Lunafreya could say, reaching for the soap, unconcerned with the presence of a Messenger. Part of her longed to confide in Gentiana while she was here, but the rest of her didn't want to tarnish their reunion. And in any case, she ought to tell her mother first and foremost. Besides that, knowing the nature of the Messengers, it was likely that she knew her situation already. Speaking it aloud might weaken her too soon.

When the only response Gentiana offered was a nod of her head, Lunafreya let out a long breath and relaxed into her usual washing routine. She had intended to take only a moment to unwind before getting clean, but it seemed she was still more exhausted than she thought, even after a few hours of sleep on the train home.

"There is much still unsaid," murmured Gentiana. "Saying it will not be easy."

"I know," said Lunafreya. Such a reminder could easily have stung, but she found comfort in the fact that someone was acknowledging her situation. It was better, in her eyes, than empty promises that everything would be all right.

"The lady must have faith," said Gentiana, placing her hands before her, and—to Lunafreya's surprise—smiled again. "It is said that burdens shared are burdens halved, yes? The mother awaits her daughter in her quarters."

Lunafreya smiled too, in relief. She had expected her to deliver some more serious news, though she supposed there was always a possibility her mother would do so in her stead. "Then I'll be along as soon as I am dressed."

It did not take long for Lunafreya to finish washing off, since this was really meant to be a quick bath to help soothe her frayed nerves. She couldn't tell how quick it had actually been, given her impromptu nap, but the water hadn't cooled down too much yet, so it couldn't have been _too_ long. Turning to ask whether Gentiana had been watching over the manor in her absence, Lunafreya found that she had gone.

Alone again, Lunafreya climbed out of the bath, then dried herself off carefully before slipping into a comfortable robe. Her hair was still done up the way she had left it before she departed for Niflheim, and it had held up better than she expected thus far, but it needed a good brushing. Seating herself at her vanity, she undid her updo and combed through her hair until she was satisfied, then put it in a swift braid. Here, there was no need to impress.

Moving over to the window, Lunafreya soaked in the view of the Tenebraen sunset from her room before closing the curtains so she could dress in peace. Her chosen attire was a plain white dress, as simple as her hairstyle. It was only after a moment of thought that she slid her engagement ring back onto her finger. Loath as she was to feel its cold against her skin again, it might spare her at least some explaining.

Now dressed and reluctantly accessorized, Lunafreya made her way out into the hall, closing the door gently behind her. She was glad that her mother awaited so close by, because the farther away she was, the longer a walk it would be through the halls of a manor that did not quite feel like home anymore. This place had never been either still or silent until the empire occupied it, but now it felt almost abandoned, no hustle and bustle of servants or guests.

Her mother's door was ajar, so Lunafreya tapped her fingers by way of knocking before pushing it open. Lady Sylva, no longer a queen, sat at her window seat, evidently lost in thought, but looked up as Lunafreya entered.

As Lady Sylva rose slowly to her feet, several expressions flashed across her face—relief, joy, anxiety. "Mother," cried Lunafreya, running to her, and found herself quite suddenly on the verge of tears. As the full brunt of her situation crashed down on her, she felt that she was no longer a young lady, but a young _girl_ , seeking comfort from her mother.

"My dearest," returned Lady Sylva, embracing Lunafreya, and stroked her hair. Ever since Tenebrae's surrender, Lady Sylva had seemed thin and weary, but her eyes still sparkled and glowed with affection and inner strength. "I prayed for you throughout your absence. I'm so glad the gods have returned you to me safely."

"Yes," said Lunafreya, breathless already, and dared not even wipe the tears from her eyes before hiding her hands behind her back. She couldn't let her mother see her engagement ring too soon; the good news should come first. "Ravus has been pardoned as well."

"Thank the Six," said Lady Sylva, bowing her head and clasping her hands, but her eyes turned serious as she looked up again. "Tell me what happened."

"Tenebrae's autonomy was not discussed, so I assume nothing has changed from the first draft of the treaty," said Lunafreya, making an effort not to speak too quickly despite her anxiety. "Ravus is to be spared and will receive a magitek prosthetic arm to compensate for the one he lost. And Lucis will be extended an offer of peace."

"Such generosity," murmured Lady Sylva in surprise, searching Lunafreya's face, her own reflecting concern. Like Lunafreya herself, she knew that such charitable terms could only come at a cost. "And what price did they ask?"

"There are three new conditions," said Lunafreya, bowing her head. "Firstly, you must abdicate the throne of Tenebrae."

Lady Sylva sighed, but nodded. "That is to be expected."

"I decided not to question whether you would be allowed to retain your crown, metaphorically speaking, or whether you must relinquish all leadership," continued Lunafreya, relaxing slightly at her mother's resignation. "I assume, if you are to be replaced, your replacement will be chosen by the empire."

"I made my peace with that the moment I surrendered," said Lady Sylva, though Lunafreya recalled from the meetings with their council that _peace_ was not quite what she had found. Rather, it had been what she had sought. "Please, go on."

Lunafreya took a breath. That condition was the easiest to accept; two more difficult ones still remained. "You must also step down as Oracle, and I must ascend in your stead."

Lady Sylva looked troubled. "To what end?"

There were some ways of answering such a question that were easier than words. Taking her hands from behind her back, Lunafreya spread her fingers to display her engagement ring, and Lady Sylva's eyes widened in horror. "So that the Oracle will be at their mercy. I…" Lunafreya hesitated, but her mother did not break the silence, still staring at the ring. "I must marry Chancellor Ardyn Izunia."

"Oh," was Lady Sylva's response, half a mourning cry, and she moved to embrace Lunafreya more tightly than ever. "Oh, my brave, beautiful daughter, I'm so proud of you—and so, so sorry."

Lunafreya swallowed automatically, unable to say anything, as her throat tightened. She could only cling to her mother, more tears sliding down her cheeks, her thoughts pulled helplessly to Noctis. Even knowing they could not be wed, she had not allowed herself to think of what that meant, clinging to vivid memories and hollow hopes. Now, even if her current betrothal still did not feel real, the stark truth that she was no longer engaged to _Noctis_ did. Heart aching at this visceral realization, Lunafreya reminded herself to breathe, but her next inhalation turned into a quiet sob.

For a long time, Lady Sylva simply held her daughter, stroking her hair gently until Lunafreya finally felt strong enough, and curious enough, to take a step back. Lady Sylva's strongest reaction had not been to the news of her engagement, but to the news of her groom. If she had any more information about him than Lunafreya, she ought to know it. "Wh-what do you know about the chancellor, Mother?"

Lady Sylva's expression darkened. "Not enough," she said, beginning to pace. "I do my best to keep track of personnel changes in the empire, but I cannot remember when Izunia was inaugurated. To my knowledge, he has held his position for as long as I have been queen, if not longer."

Lunafreya inclined her head; that made some sense. Chancellor Izunia—she still couldn't bring herself to call him _Ardyn_ , even in her own thoughts—did look to be in her parents' generation. But beyond that estimation, Lunafreya could not guess. There was an air of youthfulness about his mannerisms, yet he felt far older even than her mother.

"Be careful around him, dear one," said Lady Sylva, and Lunafreya looked up to find that her mother had paused in her movements and was now eyeing her expression closely. For all Lunafreya's lessons in concealing her emotions, her mother had always been able to see through her regardless. "That man is not to be underestimated at any cost. He is every bit as formidable as his reputation suggests, and then some."

"I understand," said Lunafreya, sniffling again, and turned her face away.

Lady Sylva sighed and spoke slowly, resuming her pacing. "Even considering the inevitable friction with Lucis, I must admit that the empire's demands are more than fair. Considering Ravus's transgressions, I have little choice but to accept and honor their terms in full, and do it gratefully. But the majority of my thanks go to you, my love," she added, turning to Lunafreya. "Your selflessness is truly divine."

Lunafreya shook her head; she deserved no such praise. "I did only what I had to for the sake of Tenebrae's welfare," she murmured, bowing her head. "And… had I known my fate, I might have faltered."

"That is why humans are blind, with the Six as our eyes," said Lady Sylva, resting her hand on Lunafreya's shoulder. "They see and guide; we trust and follow." Lunafreya could not muster a response, so Lady Sylva looked at her for a moment, squeezing her shoulder gently before letting go. "You look faint after all you've been through, dearest. Shall I call for supper?"

"I'm far more tired than hungry, Mother," said Lunafreya, taking a breath and wiping her eyes. "I'd rather sleep for a few hours and come to supper later, if you don't mind. But…"

"But?"

"May I call Noctis first?" asked Lunafreya, the words bursting out of her before she could so much as refine them, and scrambled to explain herself. Waiting for Lady Sylva to report the altered situation to King Regis, and for King Regis to report it to Noctis, would take longer than was comfortable. And besides, Lunafreya felt that she had to be the one to tell him. She wouldn't be able to live with herself, otherwise. "I understand that it isn't the most secure way, but he left a message earlier, and…"

Lady Sylva was already nodding. "I understand that this is of the utmost importance," she said, stepping closer to press a kiss to Lunafreya's forehead like a blessing. "Go, and do what you must."

Lunafreya embraced Lady Sylva once more, her mother's touch tight and lingering, and drew from her the strength to depart. She felt like a ghost moving through the halls, keeping her head down almost as though she walked through the imperial palace again, this time out of a desire to conceal the evidence of her tears. But she needn't have worried; the manor was deserted. She arrived at her room without incident.

After closing the door behind her, Lunafreya took a moment to blow her nose, wash her face, and prepare herself as best she could for the conversation to come. Then she returned to her dresser and picked up her phone to find no new notifications. Thankfully, Noctis had not attempted to contact her since she had left to speak with her mother. Once was apparently enough.

Taking a deep breath as she sat on the edge of her bed, Lunafreya dialed Noctis's number. (His was the first she had memorized, as her first phone had been a gift from King Regis himself.) Every ringback sent another pulse of ice through her body. What if Noctis didn't answer? Was it better to leave a concise message, or to request that he call her back?

His voicemail picked up. _Hey, you've reached the crown prince of Lucis_ , said Noctis's familiar voice from years ago, sounding vaguely bored. _Leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you whenever I can. It'll be faster if your name is Luna._

The tone sounded. "Noctis," said Lunafreya, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking, but could not tell how successful she was. "There is no immediate danger, but I have some troubling news. I know I haven't the right to ask, after remaining unresponsive for so long, but… please call me back at the manor as soon as possible."

Fingers trembling, Lunafreya hung up and practically threw her phone down on her bed. How could she answer all Noctis's questions, with everything still undecided? She didn't know the answers, either, nor could she guess. She had done her best to ensure that Tenebrae and Lucis would not be _enemies_ , at least, but there was no guarantee that they could ever work together again…

Lunafreya could not say how long she spent mired in her thoughts before the manor phone rang, but it felt almost instantaneous. She had half been expecting it, but not so soon; the sound startled her. After a brief hesitation as she got her bearings, she answered it, but did not have the chance to say anything. "Luna," said Noctis immediately, sounding out of breath. "What's going on?"

Ordinarily, Lunafreya might greet him in return, but there was no time. "Ravus is alive, and I am safe." She needed to give him the good news first. Leading with anything else would only agitate Noctis more.

Noctis let out a brief exhalation of relief. "And Tenebrae?"

Lunafreya closed her eyes as if to hide from herself and her circumstances. "Now a region of Niflheim."

Silence.

"Noctis?"

"I'm here," he said, though his voice sounded farther away, as though his hand had drooped away from his face. "And that means our alliance is…?"

Noctis trailed off and did not pick the sentence up again, but Lunafreya understood. "I'm afraid Tenebrae can no longer fight alongside Lucis," she said, as gently as she could. Noctis was asking about their engagement, too. "And… I can no longer marry you."

There was a very long silence, but for Noctis's uneven breathing, more and more labored. He must have guessed that would be the case, ever since Tenebrae's surrender, but Lunafreya knew full well that to hear it said aloud was something completely different. She could not bear to prompt him this time, nor could she bear to tell him that she had already been promised to another. Not yet.

"Okay." When Noctis eventually spoke, that was all he said, his voice strained.

"I… I'm so sorry, Noctis."

"Me too," muttered Noctis, a catch in his voice. "Luna, what—what are we supposed to do now? We've already been fighting a losing war for years, and without Tenebrae to help us, we might…"

"I'm sorry," repeated Lunafreya, her eyes beginning to fill with tears all over again. The most she could hope for was that the empire honored her request and offered Lucis a ceasefire. "You know our people always have to come first."

"The people of Lucis are supposed to be yours, too," said Noctis, his voice insistent, desperate. "Wasn't that what our engagement was all about?"

"That was… supposed to be the case someday, yes," said Lunafreya, the past tense tangling her tongue. "But in the meantime, our respective countries have always taken precedence, and Mother— _I_ —couldn't risk destruction."

"But Ravus could?"

The air seemed to vanish from Lunafreya's lungs altogether, and it felt as though she had to fight for breath. She knew very well that Noctis was only lashing out because he was hurt, but explaining her brother's situation only made her worry about his condition more. Had they replaced his arm as promised? "Ravus risked more than was wise. He lost his arm, and the empire's trust in Tenebrae, over the course of a single battle."

"Shit." Noctis's voice was hushed.

"It's a miracle he didn't lose his life, too," said Lunafreya, a little more calmly now that Noctis seemed to understand better. "If not in the fray, then after it. The empire would have been well within their rights to have him executed. I had to change the terms of our surrender to ensure his pardon."

"You?" asked Noctis, sounding the slightest bit skeptical. "Not Sylva?"

"To preserve the peace, Mother had to disavow any involvement in my brother's uprising," said Lunafreya, as patiently as she could. "Both of us feared for his safety, but it would have been too suspicious for her to plead his case. I made the necessary negotiations on her behalf yesterday and this morning, and the treaty will be signed tomorrow."

"Is that why _you're_ the one telling me all this?" demanded Noctis, and Lunafreya winced at his tone, still so harsh and without any sign of softening. "If there's any news I need to hear, Dad always makes sure to tell me as soon as he knows. I've never heard anything important from you first."

Noctis's accusatory words hit harder than he may have intended, and it took Lunafreya a moment to recover. "That is part of it, yes. But besides that, I know you well enough to know you'd never forgive me if you heard this from anyone else."

"What makes you think I'll forgive you now?"

Lunafreya closed her eyes. "Nothing. But at least my own conscience is clear."

"Is it?" asked Noctis, disbelieving. "The empire must not have asked much, then."

His words were pointed, venomously curious, meant to inquire about which parts of the treaty Lunafreya had changed, but she could not reveal them. Her throat tightened so that she was afraid she would not be able to speak at all, but she forced herself to continue. "As of now, Tenebrae's affairs are no longer any concern of Lucis. Though that may yet change, if all goes smoothly."

"Do tell."

Noctis's voice was anything but inviting, more a challenge than anything else, but Lunafreya felt compelled to elaborate all the same. "I was able to negotiate the treaty to include an offer of peace to Lucis in honor of our former alliance. Do not lose h—"

"Are you _crazy_ , Luna?!" exclaimed Noctis, his voice cracking in grief and fury, and Lunafreya flinched. It was the angriest, and most distraught, she had ever heard him. "I don't want the empire's peace! None of us do! That's why we've been fighting all this time!"

"Please, Noctis," said Lunafreya softly, another tear streaking down her cheek, but she could not afford to dissolve into crying again now. "Listen to me. You know as well as I do that Lucis cannot hold out for much longer under these circumstances. But if King Regis accepts the ter—"

"At least we had a _chance_ when Tenebrae was still with us!" exploded Noctis.

"The empire was poised to destroy my country altogether," said Lunafreya, brushing away more tears. "Had Mother not surrendered, our people would no longer exist to help in the first place." Only when Noctis said nothing did Lunafreya dare to continue. "I have done all I can to ensure that my nation does not contribute directly to the empire's war effort, and to secure peace for Lucis. Anything further is beyond my power." She swallowed another sob. "I'm _sorry_ , Noctis."

There was a pause, long and terrible. Lunafreya tried to regain some control of herself, and managed to stop her tears, breathing softly through her mouth to avoid sniffling. It would only make her feel guiltier for showing her pain after allowing this to happen.

"I have to go." Noctis's voice was so tense it almost cracked at the end.

"I know," murmured Lunafreya, feeling her heart shatter. "Be safe, Noctis."

"Yeah," said Noctis, his tone indecipherable. "You, too."

That was their parting. Noctis ended the call first, and Lunafreya got up numbly to drop the phone back into its holder before returning to her bed and collapsing atop the covers. She didn't _want_ to cry all over again, but found herself sobbing into her pillow before long all the same. First her tears had come out of fear in anticipation of such a conversation; now they were from grief in the aftermath.

A moment later, the sound of paws on hardwood caught Lunafreya's ear, and she sat up slowly, looking around through bleary eyes to find Umbra and Pryna flanking her bed. She tapped her hands weakly on the covers, and they jumped up as one, Pryna licking the tears from her face.

"Pryna," said Lunafreya, sniffling, moving a hand so that Umbra could nudge his head under it, and massaged both Messengers behind the ears. They may have been holy creatures, but they had still assumed canine forms, and they enjoyed being pet like this as much as any other dog. "Umbra. Thank you."

Lunafreya felt their love and support in response, but while Pryna's reassurance was entirely ordinary, she sensed an emanation of power from Umbra—a silent question, the offer of an escape she had taken only rarely before. Drawing a deep shuddering breath as she recalled and understood his gift, Lunafreya met his eyes before closing her own, allowing herself to be drawn into his power and projected into the past.


	4. Still With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya reminisces about, or rather relives, the past.

Lunafreya had never been so excited as when she was going to see Noctis.

They had only met in person a few times in their lives, their visits irregular and scattered over the course of years at a time, but they had kept in touch consistently ever since their first meeting. Even before they had established a connection over phone, they'd written back and forth in journals, entrusting their correspondence to Umbra. But that was nothing to seeing one another in person.

Two years had passed since their last visit in Tenebrae, and Lunafreya had expected this one would be the same—each of them had visited one another's countries twice in a row before—but her mother had elected to send her to Insomnia instead. As a result, Lunafreya had been counting down the days until her departure for so long that the trip itself had seemed somehow anticlimactic.

Not that the Lucian countryside had been any less beautiful than it had been the last couple times she'd seen it, of course. She'd simply been too impatient to see Noctis to take much note. Their visits, and the journeys to and from one another's kingdoms, were some of the few times Lunafreya felt at ease enough to allow her own wishes to overwhelm her training as a princess. (Perhaps that was part of why she cherished them so much.)

But now she had to remain composed again, standing before King Regis.

It wasn't that he was especially stern, or that the occasion was particularly solemn. As a matter of fact, the transition from foreign monarch to father-in-law would not be a difficult adjustment at all. King Regis was already as much a parent to her as Queen Sylva, despite their few meetings in the past. It was just that Lunafreya had to be a _princess_ again, reining in her desire to see Noctis for the moment, and greet his father first.

"King Regis," said Lunafreya, curtsying. "It has been too long."

"Indeed it has," agreed King Regis. He looked much older than the last time she had seen him, likely due to the toll the Crystal took on his body, but his eyes twinkled just the same as ever. "You look very well, Lunafreya. I am glad to see that these four years have not dulled your sparkle." He smiled, and Lunafreya couldn't help but return the gesture. "I found myself missing it while Noctis was away in Tenebrae. I believe I grew too used to having a daughter as well as a son."

Apart from her previous meetings with King Regis, she had never known this feeling, but this must be what a father's praise felt like. "I'm honored, Your Majesty," said Lunafreya, curtsying again out of sheer instinct. "And… I missed you, too. It is good to see you again, though I must confess I am not as adept at giving compliments as you."

King Regis laughed. "Perhaps because there is less to compliment here. Your missing this old man is enough." Lunafreya wanted to protest that he was a good king and a good man, 'old' or otherwise, but did not have time to say so. "How are your mother and brother?"

"They are both very well, thank you," said Lunafreya, though at the moment, her thoughts were far from formalities. This was a far cry from her first visit to Insomnia, when she was just sixteen and couldn't think of anything except how best to seem dignified and diplomatic. At least it gave her an opportunity to inquire after King Regis's family in return. "How is—"

"Noctis has been asking whether you're here yet for quite some time," said King Regis, smiling, and Lunafreya fell abruptly silent, blushing at having tried to speak at the same time as the king. At least he'd answered her question at the same moment she'd tried to ask it. "The three of us will dine and talk together soon, but in the meantime, I'm sure you must be tired from your journey. I'll have an attendant show you to your room, and send someone to retrieve you in an hour. Supper should be ready by then."

Lunafreya curtsied again, still a little bit flustered. "Thank you, sire."

* * *

That hour passed faster than Lunafreya thought possible, given how conscious she felt of the time, but at least she had ample time to change clothes and freshen up in preparation to see Noctis at last.

Their relationship was a complicated one, considering their eventual titles of Chosen King and Oracle as well as their betrothal for the sake of both politics and destiny, but at its core, it was a friendship stretching back ten years. That had also been the length of their engagement, but in an effort not to let it dictate the terms of their relationship, they'd made it an unofficial rule not to mention their betrothal until they were actually ready to think about the wedding. Nor would they mention their destined roles until they came closer to assuming them, though that didn't stop Lunafreya from fretting, and she was sure Noctis had his moments of wondering and worrying too.

It also didn't stop her from falling in love, and she _hoped_ that much was likewise mutual. There were of course some complications along the way, considering that the difference between twelve and sixteen seemed much larger than the difference between eight and twelve. But it at least ensured that her love remained wholesome—the kind of steady, almost familial love that could carry a relationship farther than aimless passion—even if, with every conversation, she felt herself falling a little farther.

This time, perhaps they'd have a chance to reciprocate on the same level, with the same spark of growing interest. It would be another two years until Noctis officially came of age according to Lucian tradition, but it was only a few more days until his eighteenth birthday. Then, at least, he would be an adult by imperial standards, and they might at least come one step closer to acknowledging _how_ close they'd come.

A knock at the door, and a familiar voice, drew Lunafreya out of her wistful thoughts. "Luna?"

"Noctis?" Rising from the vanity upon the instant, Lunafreya strode forward to open the door, beaming as she saw him standing there. Though her instinct was to embrace him immediately, Lunafreya opened the door to let him in first, barely closing it again before moving forward to hug him. "It's so good to see you!"

Phone calls, whether video or audio, were decidedly not the same as seeing one another in person like this, but they had been enough that Lunafreya did not consciously notice any alterations in Noctis's face or voice. Only his height marked a difference. He had been her height the last time they had met, and now he was taller by a few inches. And no video could convey his scent, faint and comforting, as he embraced her.

"You too," said Noctis, a somewhat sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Lunafreya moved back again. She wasn't surprised that he didn't say anything else; it always took him some time to speak more than the bare minimum until he got used to her company. Even his letters had always been shorter than hers, but she could tell it didn't indicate a lack of feeling on his part. He simply wasn't a very verbal person, and from what she could tell, he never had been.

"I thought we would be dining together," said Lunafreya, looking at Noctis curiously, and took the opportunity to examine him more carefully. She'd scarcely taken note of what he was wearing, and she hadn't anticipated that he would don anything special—he was not particularly fond of even semiformal wear—but he looked wonderful in a black dress shirt and trousers. "I didn't expect to see you so soon, and especially not looking so handsome."

Noctis, to her delight, blushed. "You too," he mumbled, the same words again, but his voice caught and his eyes widened even as he spoke, and he raised his voice out of panic as he recognized the discrepancy in conventional word choice. "I mean, you're pretty!"

Lunafreya smiled. "Thank you," she said, admiring the shade of scarlet on Noctis's cheeks as he glared at the wall, looking as though he'd like nothing more than to sink straight through the floor out of embarrassment. "Come now, there's no harm in sincere compliments." She narrowly resisted mentioning that they were betrothed anyway, recalling their vow not to mention it themselves, but the thought certainly crossed her mind.

Perhaps it crossed Noctis's too, because there was a slight hesitation before he cleared his throat. "Anyway… Dad sent me to get you."

Lunafreya couldn't help but chuckle. King Regis had said he'd send _someone_ , and Noctis certainly fit that description. It served her right for anticipating a servant. "Is supper ready, then?" she asked, moving over to her bed to slip on some shoes. (Noctis growing taller meant Lunafreya could wear heels without embarrassing him, now.)

"Should be," said Noctis, nodding, and offered his arm, though he could not meet Lunafreya's eyes for long now that they were almost the same height again. Evidently, he had been coached on what constituted gentlemanly behavior, but his words were definitely the same Noctis she knew: "Let's go."

Laughing softly, Lunafreya slipped her hand into the crook of Noctis's arm, and opened the door again. "Yes, let's."

* * *

The evening passed in almost as much of a blur as her journey, albeit a more pleasurable one, such that Lunafreya hardly had a chance to reflect on it until the next day. And when she did, it felt almost as though she was reliving it, not yet thinking of it in the past tense.

The meal, while excellent, was not half as satisfying as friendly company. Lunafreya had a tendency to forget, year to year, how lonely she was in her home country. Lucis had a handful of noble houses in addition to its royalty, but Tenebrae did not, so Lunafreya's life as a princess was a solitary one. She was on good terms with her family, but mother-daughter and brother-sister relationships had their limits. And, while Lunafreya was friendly with most of the manor staff, even her ladies-in-waiting still treated her more like a superior than an equal.

Noctis, as usual, was different. Even though the conversation was polite and general, and he looked at Lunafreya more often than he spoke to her, his looks and words were warm. He opened up more as the evening went on, even without any alcohol to help loosen his tongue; Lunafreya refused champagne out of solidarity, since he was still underage.

There was much to plan and think about—enough so that, long after dinner and dessert had both run their course and Lunafreya was beginning to get hungry again, King Regis had to remind them both that Noctis did still have school the next day (a fact which, judging by his sullen demeanor, he had been hoping his father would forget). But he was at least kind enough to entrust Noctis with walking Lunafreya back to her room, giving them a smile almost as warm as the way he kissed her forehead good night.

And Lunafreya kissed Noctis good night, too, when he escorted her back to her room. She leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, and loved the way his eyes widened, the flush across his face in the dim golden lamplight, the way he lifted his fingers to touch the spot as if in a trance. Hope, dizzying and sudden, blossomed in Lunafreya's chest.

Yet that hope had another side, already beginning to surface in the morning. Perhaps it was a dream she had, or the knowledge that Noctis would be coming of age fairly soon, but she couldn't help but think that the time of reckoning was closer than it had been before. Uncomfortably so; maybe mere years, no longer feeling like decades. She wished Pryna was here to ease her worries, but knowing her gift of premonitions, she would most likely only confirm them. In any case, the most she could do was to keep as calm as she could and ensure that Noctis was well supported.

Thankfully, Lunafreya did not have too long to dwell on her thoughts, because once Noctis got out of school, she was acquainted, or reacquainted, with her fiancé's retinue.

The first she met was Ignis, as their chaperone of sorts—or, more accurately, chauffeur. She had met him before, the last couple times she had come to Insomnia, since he had attended Noctis since their childhoods. While he had made the occasional background appearance on video calls, she hadn't seen him in person since he was fifteen years old, and the capable young man before her came as something of a surprise. As did most of the rumors as to the extent of his skills.

It took quite a while to get any time to talk to Ignis alone, but as soon as they parked in front of the Amicitia household, Noctis unexpectedly went ahead into Gladiolus's house to make sure he knew they were coming. (Apparently, he hadn't forewarned him, or perhaps hadn't received confirmation.)

"It seems you have gained many talents since our last meeting," said Lunafreya, and Ignis glanced over at her, muted surprise visible in his eyes. Did he think himself beneath Lunafreya's notice or praise? "I should like to hear more. Specifically…" She paused, trying to find the best way to ask her question, but all her phrasing sounded intrusive or overprotective. There's nothing for it but to ask anyway. "Forgive me for asking like this, but what are you to Noctis these days?"

Ignis frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"It seems your duties are far more extensive than those of most retainers," said Lunafreya, beginning to count off on her fingers. "You perform household tasks as efficiently as any butler, drive Noctis to his destinations like a chauffeur, and discuss politics as knowledgeably as the kingdom advisors. _And_ I've heard that you are also undergoing military training in the Crownsguard."

Ignis inclined his head in an affirmative. "I am whatever King Regis, and His Highn—Noct—needs me to be."

"An admirable sentiment," said Lunafreya, pleased with his humble confirmation and concise response. As ever, Ignis wasted no words. She owed it to him to do the same. "But please be careful not to overwork yourself, for Noctis's sake. I have no way of knowing when he must take on the full weight of his destiny, but it may be sooner than any of us would like."

Ignis bowed. "Of course, my lady."

That was that. Noctis came out to signal that it was all right for them to come in, and Lunafreya got out of the car, but Ignis remained outside for the time being under the pretense of arranging something in the glove compartment. However, once she got inside, Lunafreya glanced out the window to find him driving away, though didn't say anything. Whatever he was up to was likely supposed to be a surprise.

As she and Noctis arrived upstairs, the time came for more greetings. Lunafreya had also been acquainted with Gladiolus before, but he had been a scrappy teenager last time and a scrappy child before that. Now he was an adult, tall and muscular and well suited to his calling. And complete with a fairly new battle scar, the story of which Noctis told eagerly—if a little apologetically—before heading downstairs to retrieve some refreshments.

"I can think of no better Shield of the Chosen King," said Lunafreya, taking advantage of Noctis's absence.

Gladiolus, like Ignis, looked slightly surprised to be addressed directly, though his lasted only a split second. It was true that Lunafreya hadn't spent much time around most of Noctis's friends earlier, but there was a first time for everything, especially since she had no idea whether she would be able to visit with them again before her fiancé became her husband.

"If Noct is the Chosen King, then yeah, I do my best," said Gladiolus, his eyes curious.

Lunafreya peered at him closely. He seemed remarkably unconcerned. "Do you not believe he is?"

"I believe whatever my eyes tell me, Princess," said Gladiolus. "It's not like I'm a skeptic, but prophecies aren't exactly my area, either. I haven't seen anything for myself yet, so the prince is just a normal kid to me."

Lunafreya nodded thoughtfully. "His path will be difficult. But I think it will be made easier for your presence at his side."

"That's the idea."

The forbidden subject out of the way, Lunafreya pursed her lips, casting around for another subject. She had offered Clarus her greetings, but no one had mentioned Gladiolus's sister since their arrival, and she _did_ live here too. Moreover, school was out, so she should be somewhere in the house. "How is Iris?"

"Hiding," said Gladiolus, crossing his arms. That much wasn't unusual, either. Iris's childish crush on Noctis had been fairly obvious each time Lunafreya had visited Insomnia, even though their interactions had been limited, so she must have had mixed feelings about his fiancée. "Why, did you want to see her?"

Lunafreya hesitated. She _had_ been curious, but… "Not so badly I would be willing to make her uncomfortable."

Gladiolus laughed. "You can just say yes."

"Did I miss anything?" asked Noctis, coming back in unexpectedly, and Lunafreya almost jumped. She hadn't been fully absorbed in the conversation, but she hadn't heard him approach, either.

"Nope," said Gladiolus nonchalantly. "Did you grab some refreshments?"

"Yeah," said Noctis, smiling at Lunafreya a little mischievously. "Look who's here." As he spoke, another familiar face poked around the corner next to his. A freckled face with deep blue eyes and hair reminiscent of a chocobo's feathers.

"Long time no see," said Prompto, grinning.

Lunafreya smiled, moving forward to pull him into the room and hug him. The first time she had come to Insomnia, she'd gotten separated from Noctis in the heart of the city, and Prompto had helped her get back to his side without knowing anything about who either one of them were. Appreciating his kindness, she'd asked him privately to befriend Noctis, and though it had taken longer than she'd expected for him to follow through, she'd been delighted to hear that their friendship had blossomed a few years ago.

With four of them now present, and a fifth as Ignis arrived shortly afterward—he must have gone to pick up Prompto—the room seemed much smaller, and Gladiolus suggested heading out to the veranda, since it was a nice day. The decision made, he led the way along with Ignis and Noctis, but Prompto hung back and fidgeted.

Lunafreya paused at the top of the stairs, waiting for him to say something. It took some time and a couple glances at the stairwell, but eventually, he looked her in the eye. "I'm not sure I ever thanked you," blurted out Prompto. "For… encouraging me, like you did. To get closer to Noct."

"There is no need to thank me," said Lunafreya, smiling. Was that all Prompto wanted to say? She considered that debt more than repaid, if indeed it was a debt at all. She thought of it in reverse. "Seeing the way your companionship has changed Noctis is reward enough. He has spoken to me of your adventures and conversations many times, and sent me a few of your pictures."

Prompto blinked a couple times. "He… has?"

"Why are you so surprised?" asked Lunafreya, tilting her head. "You _are_ his best friend, are you not?"

"I guess I am, yeah," said Prompto, looking as though he had just discovered something incredible. "Thanks again, Princess."

Lunafreya shook her head at the title. "In Tenebrae, I have many loyal followers, but no close friends. And any such trusted friends of Noctis are friends of mine." She smiled at him, with all the warmth of her feelings. "Please, don't stand on ceremony. I'd rather you call me by my name, the way you call Noctis by his."

Prompto cleared his throat. "Luna… freya?"

She nodded encouragingly. "See? I may be the future Oracle, but I'm still human. Just like you."

"Right," said Prompto, rubbing his wrist awkwardly, and his eyes turned faraway for a split second before they returned to Lunafreya's face. "Speaking of, you might try calling Noct… uh, Noct, once in awhile. I'm sure he'd like that."

"Well then, perhaps I shall," said Lunafreya, inclining her head, and started down the stairs. "Though I wouldn't want to shock him too badly, either."

Prompto laughed, right behind her. "I'd like to see that."

Noctis was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but didn't look concerned about why they had remained behind; just a little curious. Lunafreya appreciated that about him. He seemed to understand that Lunafreya's friendship with Prompto was closer than her more professional relationships with Ignis and Gladiolus, and didn't question it.

"Waiting to escort me?" asked Lunafreya teasingly, taking Noctis's arm. "How chivalrous."

Rather than pull faces as Gladiolus had been known to do, or sigh like Ignis might, Prompto ran ahead to the door and opened it with a low bow and a flourish. "Your Highnesses," he said in dramatic tones, and Lunafreya giggled, even Noctis cracking a smile beneath his facepalm as they started walking. As useful as Ignis and Gladiolus would be when the time came for Noctis to follow his destiny, Prompto and his ability to make him smile was no less important.

* * *

As quickly as the first couple days seemed to pass, the next few days leading up to Noctis's birthday passed even faster. Even the celebration itself rushed by, full of well-wishes and gifts. Most notable was a cake so beautiful that Lunafreya didn't want to eat it, but Prompto assured her that he had taken plenty of pictures and would send them to her through Noctis.

Time only seemed to slow down at sunset, when she found herself standing at Noctis's side on a Citadel balcony. After so much hustle and bustle, the stillness made the moment feel endless. Her heart felt so full that she almost spoke her mind, but she wasn't brave enough to break their oath to mention their intertwined destinies. All she could do was rest her hand atop his and hope he understood her feelings.

From the quality of Noctis's silence, Lunafreya thought he did.

It was only after the sun had disappeared below the horizon that Noctis finally broke the silence, though his voice barely rose above the traffic far below. "They always set off fireworks from the top of the Citadel on my birthday," he said, looking at Lunafreya. "There's a nice view from one of the parks. Do you wanna go with me?"

Lunafreya hesitated. "Are you allowed to leave without supervision?"

"They'll know where to find me," said Noctis, and Lunafreya guessed he was referring to his friends. "We've gone there together for the past few years. And I'm bringing my phone. It's just that…" He paused as if trying to find his words. He may have opened up considerably since Lunafreya had arrived, becoming as comfortable around her as she'd ever seen him, but words still weren't his strong suit. "I'd rather it be just the two of us this time. Since I don't get to see you as often."

"Then I have no further objections," said Lunafreya, smiling. "But I expect to take an equal share of the blame when your father lectures you. No heroic sacrifices."

They departed in secret, Lunafreya thoroughly enjoying the idea of sneaking away with her fiancé, holding hands to guide her through the same shortcuts Noctis had used since childhood. Oddly, it made her all the happier since fireworks were so innocuous. Any young lovers could sneak out and do something naughty, but not every boy would suggest just watching the sky.

When they arrived at the park, Noctis led her some distance away from other observers, the two of them tucked away in a corner that didn't seem like as great of a vantage point as it was. It almost felt like they were the only ones there, and Lunafreya shivered slightly at the observation. The thought of the two of them alone in close quarters had not always been so electrifying, but the last several days had only encouraged her to fall deeper in love.

"Are you cold?" asked Noctis, turning to her with some concern, and Lunafreya realized that her shiver was not as subtle as she thought. Or perhaps they were simply standing that close together.

Lunafreya shook her head, blushing. As a matter of fact, she felt warmer than ever. "Not really."

Noctis frowned, opening his mouth as if to respond, but the first firework went off with a bang that made them both jump, and their attention was drawn to the sky above the Citadel.

The fireworks were as lovely as one might expect of anything in honor of the crown prince's birthday, though Lunafreya felt Noctis's eyes on her more than once, and her own gaze was drawn to him in kind. Even in the dusky light, silhouetted by a streetlamp, he still looked so _beautiful_. Only once their eyes met did they stop pretending to pay attention to the fireworks and simply look at one another.

Lunafreya took a breath, her hand finding Noctis's. "Happy birthday, Noctis," she murmured, leaning in to kiss his cheek… but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, and her heart stopped too. Had that been too forward? Her thoughts raced fast enough that she felt dizzy, and her instinct was to apologize, but any words that might have made it to her lips vanished at the tap of Noctis's fingers on her chin.

"Happy early birthday, Luna," he whispered, and leaned in to kiss her on the lips for the first time.

The first one, brief and light, was not enough, and became a soft series of touches. It awakened feelings Lunafreya had felt for as long as she could remember, but had never allowed to surface before. Even considering their engagement, it had never been _right_ , as he had been a child when she was adolescent, and she had reached adulthood in his teenage years. But now, both adults (at least by imperial standards) and with the gap between their ages a little narrower than usual—if only for the next few days—it seemed that nothing could come between them.

Though their kisses had not been deep, Noctis's breaths came shallow in the aftermath of daring, and Lunafreya could practically hear his heart racing alongside hers. It almost drowned out the sound of the last few showers of sparks in the distance, far above the city.

"We missed them," breathed Lunafreya.

"There'll be others," said Noctis, and more words caught in his throat. From his expression, sheepish and uncertain and _excited_ , he might have meant to mention their wedding after all.

A sharp cough several feet behind them startled them both, and they jolted to action, jumping slightly apart and glancing back to find Gladiolus and Prompto approaching. Had they followed them? Had they seen anything?

"Have fun, you two?" asked Gladiolus casually, coming to a halt some feet away, and Lunafreya flushed deeper. His phrasing, as well as the applause and appreciative cheers from the others elsewhere in the park, made it feel like the whole world had been watching them.

"Yeah," said Noctis, his ears turning pink, and fixed his eyes determinedly on the sky for lack of anywhere else to look, even though all that remained was smoke. "I love fireworks."

"Same!" exclaimed Prompto, beaming, and patted the camera around his neck. "I made sure to get some pictures. You know, in case you guys missed anything."

Noctis cleared his throat aggressively. "Thanks, Prompto."

Lunafreya couldn't help but laugh softly, still as exhilarated as she was embarrassed. "Well, I for one am hungry after all the excitement," she said, and Noctis looked relieved at her sudden change of subject. "Do you suppose Ignis can help with that?"

"Yeah, he's in the kitchen with a legion of staff to help out," said Gladiolus, crossing his arms, and addressed Noctis. "It should be ready soon. I think the plan was for you, Lady Lunafreya, and His Majesty to eat together."

"You're invited, too," said Noctis, nodding at Gladiolus and Prompto, and completely ignored their fistbump in favor of turning back to Lunafreya and taking her hand. (So he hadn't entirely forgiven them after all.) " _And_ Ignis. Let's go have a feast."

* * *

Over the remaining week of her visit, Lunafreya had to come to the conclusion that time passed much too quickly in Lucis.

Her twenty-second birthday, like Noctis's eighteenth, passed without incident. All gifts paled in comparison to her first kisses with Noctis, their first _real_ kisses, as they started discovering what it meant to love—chastely, still, but less so now, bewildering desire veiled in unspoken promises to wait. This, as Noctis put it, was making up for lost time, all those years of shouldn'ts and couldn'ts.

Kisses were more than enough for now. With an engagement as long-standing as theirs, they had time to take it slow, and it would only be a couple more years before the terms of their treaty enabled them to marry at last. They didn't want to burn out their love too soon, especially since neither of them had yet dared give voice to it in so many words.

And then, quite suddenly, it was their last night together.

They were gathered in Noctis's apartment, because while Lunafreya would have a chance to bid her fiancé farewell tomorrow at the Citadel, she would not in all likelihood be able to see all his friends too. They had an unexpected amount of trouble deciding what to do with their last day together, so they ended up staying in, eating pizza—courtesy of Ignis, who Lunafreya was increasingly more certain was a born chef—and binge-watching an adaptation of a comic series beloved by both Noctis and Prompto.

Lunafreya was reasonably certain she had never been happier than in this moment, listening to their bantering commentary and occasional indignation, hearing about all the minute differences between this version and the original. Here was the real Noctis, her fiancé, every bit as animated as the show itself. Even without a thorough understanding of the subject matter, in spite of all their painstaking explanations, she loved hearing about anything that made him smile like this, and denied all his apologies for rambling.

By the time they reached what Noctis and Prompto deemed a good stopping place, it was almost one o'clock in the morning.

All of them ended up staying there, that night. Noctis offered Lunafreya his bed, but she refused to take it alone and he refused to stay there with her, so they both slept on the floor among his pillows. Prompto sprawled on his other side, but Ignis (doubtless the one with the most sense) took the couch in the other room, and Gladiolus the living room rug.

Lunafreya's sleep was surprisingly sound; she had expected it to be fitful, knowing it to be her last in Lucis for now. Perhaps she found peace of mind sleeping next to Noctis. And perhaps she guessed that their goodbye the next morning was going to be a long one.

She awoke at dawn, wanting to savor every one of her few remaining moments with Noctis, but gave no hint that she was awake. Thankfully, Prompto got up and left quietly not long after—earlier than she would have anticipated from him, but just this once, his absence was welcome. Lunafreya wasn't about to question whether he suspected her wakefulness if it meant he left her alone with Noctis.

Almost as soon as the door closed softly behind Prompto, Noctis stirred, and Lunafreya realized that he was awake, too. Their eyes opened at the same time, and they blushed even as they smiled. "Morning," murmured Noctis, his voice low from sleep. "Think my bed's free now."

"Indeed," mumbled Lunafreya, trying to wake up, and noticed Noctis's lopsided smile. "What are you smiling about?"

"'Indeed'," was all Noctis said, grinning outright now, but his expression was so _fond_ that even if Lunafreya had been conscious enough to feel indignant, she wouldn't have wasted the energy. As it was, she couldn't help but smile right back. "Let's get up and lie back down. I don't want to let you go just yet."

Lunafreya wasn't awake enough to question his boundaries. Sleeping next to her on the floor was fine, but the bed was taboo… unless they weren't sleeping. It didn't matter to her, really, if he was going to say things like _I don't want to let you go_. She didn't want Noctis to let go of her, either, and settled as easily onto his bed as though she were meant to be there.

"Want some gum?" asked Noctis, settling down next to her and offering her a piece (he must have stashed some in his bedside table), and Lunafreya smiled as she took it. She knew exactly what that meant, and was delighted to be proven right as soon as the gum lost its flavor and they took it out: Noctis positioned himself half over her, albeit hesitantly, and leaned down.

Kissing felt different, lying down. Sweeter, more secretive, more intimate in ways Lunafreya had scarcely dared imagine until now. Though she felt aware of every sensation in the moment, they all blended together in a reflection of the rest of her visit. But even if she forgot consciously each individual touch of lips, each breath, she knew her dreams would be full of soft caresses and solemnly sincere affection.

When they needed breath, they simply lay side by side, gazing into one another's eyes. They had no need of words, the silence warm and comfortable between them. Until Lunafreya smiled and leaned back in again, scooting close to encourage Noctis to hold her.

But no sooner than she had, than the door flew open.

They jumped apart, flushing, and Prompto froze in the doorway, his mouth open as if he had meant to say something and ended up gaping. It was Noctis, however, who spoke first. "Prompto," he said, clearing his throat after the name came out practically unvoiced. "Be there in a sec."

"S-sorry!" exclaimed Prompto, scarlet, and practically slammed the door.

"Gladio," muttered Noctis, glowering at the wall as his Shield's laughter sounded amid Prompto's shrill objections from the other room. "Bet he put him up to waking us."

Lunafreya sighed and stretched and looked at Noctis. She had lost track of time, but it was no longer as early as it had been, and they ought to have Ignis cook them breakfast before their return to the Citadel. "Well then," she said, kissing Noctis's cheek to reassure him. "Shall we go?"

"Just one more," murmured Noctis—and as their lips met again, Lunafreya surfaced from her vision.

Her face was wet with tears, but she was no longer sobbing, her breaths deep and even, if a little pained from the memories. Yes… even if a future with Noctis was no longer possible, she still had her past, and would not part with it for the world. As many regrets as she held now, they all pertained to her future. She could never bring herself to regret becoming as close as they had, even if it meant she suffered more in the moment.

"Umbra," said Lunafreya softly, sitting up, and he wagged his tail. "Thank you. And… if you would… please, keep Noctis safe."

Barking softly and nosing Lunafreya's hand as if to say it was nothing, Umbra leapt off the bed along with Pryna, the two of them trotting toward the door and vanishing straight through it.

Lunafreya found herself staring at the spot they had vanished, no thoughts passing through her head, and felt bone-deep exhaustion crash back down onto her in waves. Taking a deep breath, Lunafreya slowly lay back down, closed her weary eyes, and gave herself and her aching heart over to mercifully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter named for BTS Jungkook's "[Still With You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djKdPZiJdvA)", which I had on loop while writing a significant part of this.


	5. Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chancellor Izunia arrives in Tenebrae and Lunafreya ascends as Oracle.

Over the next week or so, Lunafreya had precious little time to get used to her new reality, but given how unpleasant it was, she could only consider distraction a blessing.

Most of her days were spent helping Lady Sylva keep the nation together, reassuring the people in the wake of Ravus's rebellion. The citizens were not permitted to assemble, even peacefully, but Lunafreya and Lady Sylva published the new terms of the treaty, doing their best to ensure peace. To that end, the only secret remaining was the exact identity of her new groom. They had not so much as spoken his name since Lunafreya's return, as if their silence could undo their betrothal.

Until Chancellor Izunia arrived at Fenestala Manor.

Having sent no warning ahead, no one was there to greet him except a young doorman, one of few remaining servants, who came to Lunafreya's room, terrified even to say the chancellor's name. After assuring him that she did not need to be presented, she ensured that her engagement ring was firmly on her finger and hurried to the entryway.

She found Ardyn pacing around the sitting room nearest the foyer, examining the antiques on the shelves as if they already belonged to him. As she stopped in the doorway, he did not so much as glance her way.

"Chancellor Izunia," greeted Lunafreya, curtsying, and he finally looked up at her. His expression did not change, curious and appraising as though she were just another heirloom. Lunafreya did her best not to blush, recalling too late that while she'd had the good sense to put on her ring, her attire was much less formal than before. Her dress barely reached to her knees, her hair down around her shoulders with only a headband to tame it. "I apologize for our negligence. We… weren't anticipating your company."

"Oh, there's no need to apologize," said Chancellor Izunia, smiling faintly as he approached to stand before Lunafreya. "Even had you known I was coming, I wouldn't have expected much of a welcome, under the circumstances. But, more importantly…" He took her hand in his, meeting her eyes. "I believe I asked you to call me _Ardyn_ , my lady." Pressing another prickly kiss to the back of Lunafreya's hand, he did not let go, and his gaze did not leave hers.

"A-Ardyn, then," said Lunafreya, more awkwardly than she would have liked, and he finally released her hand. His touch lingered long after it had actually left her skin, and she suppressed a shiver. _Ardyn_. It felt wrong to refer to him by his given name as though they were on friendly terms, but if he insisted, then Lunafreya had no choice but to obey. (At least this meant that she owed him no formalities.) "What brings you here?"

"Why, finalizing the treaty, of course," said Ardyn, raising his eyebrows. "Surely you haven't forgotten? One would have thought that ring, if nothing else, might remind you."

"Of course I remember," said Lunafreya, meeting Ardyn's eyes, glad that she had remembered it. She didn't even dare imagine what his response might have been had she left her ring behind. "I couldn't possibly forget."

Ardyn seemed pleased about this, but rather than gloat, changed the subject (to Lunafreya's immense relief). "Ah, but where are my manners," he said, gesturing to the doorway leading to the foyer. "I am not your only visitor, my lady. Your recently recovered brother awaits."

Lunafreya recognized the invitation in Ardyn's tone, hurrying past him into the foyer. There, she found Ravus standing near the front door, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. They snapped to Lunafreya as she entered, and he stirred restlessly in place, uncrossing his arms—in the plural once more. "Sister."

"Ravus," exclaimed Lunafreya, running to her brother's side, and searched his face. All seemed to be more or less well, but his left eye had turned a pale shade of violet. Perhaps the effects of magitek prosthetics were farther-reaching than she, and likely Ravus, had thought. But that wasn't what was truly important. "How is your arm?"

"Functional," said Ravus dispassionately, flexing his artificial fingers. "It is admittedly somewhat difficult to judge my strength without a sense of touch, but I'm… learning." He reached his artificial arm to brush a lock of hair off Lunafreya's shoulder. "How is Mother?"

"Overwhelmed by stress and worry, though she tries to hide it," said Lunafreya, lowering her eyes. "There is little she can do, but she does what is possible with all her strength, and I lend her my support as best I can. She and I have been occupied primarily with determining what to tell the people so that they will follow our lead."

Ravus sighed, evidently seeing through Lunafreya's attempts to talk around the unrest he had caused. "I should apologize," he murmured, glancing up at the stairs, but his eyes snagged on something else as well, and Lunafreya turned to find Ardyn standing in the doorway to the sitting room, observing them. Had he been eavesdropping? How long had he been there?

"I hate to interrupt such a touching reunion," said Ardyn, sauntering forward, "and even more to delay another, but we really ought to get that treaty signed once and for all before anything else _unfortunate_ happens." Lunafreya looked back up at Ravus to find him glowering at Ardyn, but thankfully, he said nothing. "Would you be so kind as to take me to Lady Sylva?"

Lunafreya pursed her lips. Lady Sylva was under enough strain that she kept mostly to her room, but it struck her as unwise to say as much in front of Ardyn, or to escort him to her personal quarters. "If you would be so kind as to wait a moment in the sitting room, I will announce you and fetch her."

"Very well," said Ardyn, and Ravus shifted in place, but said nothing. Yet Ardyn seemed to know what he wanted to ask. "Come now, don't look so glum," he said, giving a falsely encouraging smile, and beckoned him to follow to the adjacent room. "There will be plenty of time for you to see your mother later, but until the treaty is signed, you are merely a term to be discussed."

Suppressing a shudder as she imagined her brother's expression, easily guessed by how rigid his back had become, Lunafreya forced herself not to try and intervene, instead making her way swiftly to Lady Sylva's room.

To Lunafreya's alarm, Lady Sylva was nowhere to be found, not even in her bed. Lunafreya paused, listening, but heard no sign of her. Had she gone somewhere? "Mother?"

"Yes, Lunafreya?" Lady Sylva's voice came from her adjoining office.

Walking to the doorway, Lunafreya found her mother reading over some documents just as she had been last night, and wondered if she had slept at all. "Chancellor Izunia is here with the modified treaty."

Lunafreya expected some form of surprise, but Lady Sylva's eyes remained fixed on her paperwork. "I suppose it was only a matter of time," she said wearily. "Give me a moment. I must make sure these are fit to be seen."

"Ravus has come home as well," said Lunafreya, and Lady Sylva looked up with some surprise. At least that got her attention. "He and the chancellor both await in the sitting room by the entryway. As I understand it, Ravus will be officially returned to us once the treaty is signed, and not before."

Lady Sylva sighed. "It can't be helped, then," she said, rising slowly but with dignity. "Take me to them."

* * *

The signing itself was uneventful, almost so much so that everything felt unreal all over again. Something that had been hanging over Lunafreya's head for what seemed like so long couldn't possibly be over in a moment, with only a few signatures in the silence of Lady Sylva's office.

Ardyn, unsurprisingly, was the first to break it. "Now that _that's_ out of the way," he said, tucking the newly sealed envelope back into an inside pocket in his coat, "let us initiate the power transfer."

Lunafreya frowned, her heart skipping a beat. So soon? Perhaps it was vain of her to think so, but she hardly felt dressed for the occasion. Lady Sylva did not seem half as surprised, though she could not say anything before Ravus spoke up. "You've already _taken_ Mother's crown," he began furiously, but fell silent as Lady Sylva held up her hand.

"Not all power rests on a throne, _my lord_ ," said Ardyn delicately. That title was technically more respect than he owed Ravus, but his words were pointed, intended to remind him of his changed situation. Judging by his expression, it worked. "If you'll do the honors, Lady Sylva?"

"Very well," said Lady Sylva, looking up to meet Ardyn's eyes and search them. "There is a ritual to be performed, but I assume no public ceremony will be permitted." Nor was it likely that they would be afforded the time to make the preparations.

"Indeed not," said Ardyn, smiling. "I and your remaining family ought to be audience enough." He bowed briefly with a flourish, and Ravus looked at him in obvious disgust. "Whenever you're ready, my lady."

Lady Sylva dipped her head, pacing to her cabinet to retrieve the Trident of the Oracle. Lunafreya had seen it outside its home of glass, mahogany, and velvet only rarely, but judging by its bright sheen, it must have been lovingly cared for.

Despite having vacated her throne, Lady Sylva still carried the Trident like the queen she once was, coming to a stop before Lunafreya. Both her children had grown to be taller than her, but now, stripped of her crown and holding such a tall artifact, she looked… small. Only her gracefulness, present even through the stress of losing her kingdom, prevented the impression of frailty.

"Place your hand below mine," murmured Lady Sylva, and Lunafreya took hold of the Trident carefully as directed. It felt less cold than she anticipated, considering how long it must have remained untouched before this moment. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it almost felt like a living thing, more a friend or colleague than a tool to be used.

"Before the Six and this company of witnesses, I pass on the title of Oracle to my daughter," murmured Lady Sylva, closing her eyes and resting her free hand on Lunafreya's shoulder, touching their foreheads together. "I forsake all the powers granted me by the Six, that she may take and use them in my stead. I erase my name from the covenants I have forged, and in my blood, I write her name instead." Their foreheads separated, but Lady Sylva's hand moved to cup Lunafreya's cheek, though her eyes did not open. "In the name of the Hexatheon, so mote it be."

Naïve as it was, Lunafreya had thought the words to be merely a ceremonial prayer, but she almost staggered from the sudden weight following Lady Sylva's invocation. Gasping at the sensation of utterly foreign power flooding her body—raw, electric, almost painful—she found herself powerless to uncurl her fingers from around the Trident's shaft for a few terrifying seconds. Lunafreya had seen her mother heal the people before, but she had never imagined that such an ability felt like _this_. Was this the burden of the Oracle?

Once Lunafreya could finally release the Trident and step back, heart still pounding, Ravus appeared at her side, steadying her with his human arm as she swayed in place. That was much more enervating than she expected. "Are you all right, Sister?"

Lunafreya shook her head at first, but then realized which question had been asked and nodded instead. "Yes. I just feel… heavier." For lack of a better word. More specifically, it felt as though Lady Sylva's covenants had assumed physical form in some strange way, and were now growing to take up space within her.

As Ravus reached to rest a hand on their mother's shoulder, Lunafreya glanced over at her, heart lurching to find her leaning heavily on the Trident for support. Her eyes were open once more and fixed on Ardyn, her expression unreadable.

Ardyn simply looked back at Lady Sylva, the barest hint of a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Your cooperation is much appreciated, my lady," he said, then turned to Lunafreya and bowed deeply. "Hail, Lady Oracle. I know your ascension was somewhat less _traditional_ than you may have anticipated, but I'm honored to have borne witness nonetheless." He straightened up again. "You've more than earned a rest, my dear. Why don't you lie down awhile?"

Ravus scowled, his artificial arm tightening on Lunafreya's shoulder, and her breath caught. She could feel for herself what he meant about not knowing his own strength; she wouldn't be surprised if her skin bruised from his hold. "Don't speak to Lunafreya like that."

"Whyever not?" asked Ardyn, shifting his weight to one hip, and Lunafreya's skin prickled with the knowledge of what he was about to say. "She may be your sister, but per the treaty your mother just signed, she is to be _my_ wife." He patted the treaty in his pocket smugly.

Horrified rage contorted Ravus's features as his eyes fixed themselves on Ardyn's coat, as though he were seriously considering tackling him and tearing the treaty apart, consequences be damned. Lunafreya took a deep breath; if her brother lost his temper again, the repercussions for Tenebrae could be disastrous. "Ravus," said Lunafreya, leaning on him. There was no particular harm in exaggerating the severity of her condition if it meant distracting her brother from his fury. "Will you carry me to my room?"

That did the trick. Ravus's attention shifted to Lunafreya, his expression clouding with alarm in the instant before he nodded shortly. "Of course."

"Thank you," said Lunafreya, unable to suppress the faint sigh of relief edging her words, and Lady Sylva gave her a tiny nod of gratitude for defusing the situation. Lunafreya prepared to thank Ardyn for his concern and bid him goodbye, but Ravus scooped her up in his arms and carried her out before she could say anything further, his body shielding her from even the sight of her new fiancé.

Far be it from Lunafreya to express gratitude that Ravus had spared her from that much, after the trouble he could have caused, but the thought did cross her mind.

* * *

Within a few days, Lunafreya and Lady Sylva had both recovered from the ceremony enough to venture out of the manor and heal the people. (With Ardyn's permission, of course.)

Much of Lunafreya's new power was instinctive, unable to be taught even by a seasoned Oracle, but Lunafreya was grateful for her mother's support all the same. Experiencing for herself what it felt like to heal, the strength it took to manifest enough purifying light to drive away the Starscourge, was not something she could do on her own.

At least, not for the first time. Lunafreya didn't want to keep Lady Sylva from important business, so from the second day on, she went out to the healer's tent on her own. Or rather, she _tried_ to; Ravus insisted on coming along as her personal bodyguard, though she suspected that he meant more to deter Ardyn from visiting. Still, that was better than his looking for a fight outright, and she was at least able to convince him to take breaks now and again.

To avoid overwhelming Lunafreya entirely, the people of Tenebrae had been given strict orders only to visit if they were afflicted or accompanying an ill loved one, so she found the workload manageable. She grew rapidly accustomed to her newfound abilities, learning to heal her people faster and more effectively. As it became more and more instinctive to reach for the light in response to darkness, Lunafreya found that the satisfaction of service was a valuable reward—even if it was intertwined with exhaustion.

It was not until the fourth day, shortly after Lunafreya had sent Ravus to the manor to retrieve some lunch, that anyone broke the rules.

Lunafreya was meditating to clear her mind when she heard someone enter her tent, and opened her eyes to find a man standing there. Judging by his healthy appearance, he had not come down with Starscourge, and he clearly was not accompanying anyone else, which meant that whatever his reasons for approaching her might have been, they were against the established rules. Fortunately, he also wasn't dressed like any assassin she had ever heard of, and he _certainly_ didn't sound like one.

"Hey there, Highness," said the man in a regional Accordan accent, much more casually than Lunafreya expected—almost flippant. "Mind if I ask you a few questions about Tenebrae's situation?"

Lunafreya looked the stranger over carefully. Given his timing, he must have been a journalist. She supposed it was only a matter of time before the press ignored imperial convention to try and approach her, but she had to know who this man was working for, at least. The empire ought to have had enough information to produce hundreds of articles already, if they so chose, and Tenebrae's presses weren't in business at the moment. Was he collecting exclusive information for Accordo? "Why?"

The reporter blinked a couple times, thoroughly bemusing Lunafreya. He must have expected her to ask such an obvious question. "I'm curious," he said, as though that was reason enough. "And I bet the Lucian people will be, too."

The _Lucian_ people? Lunafreya had to admit that she may have made assumptions based on this man's accent. If he intended to convey news to Lucis, which had no access to any details, then an interview might be worth her while. She had assumed Ardyn or some other imperial officials would follow up with Lucis as part of the treaty they intended to extend, but if she had the opportunity to lend a friendlier voice, that may yet prove useful diplomatically. "What's your name?"

"Dino," said the man, handing over a business card. "Dino Ghiranze. But please, just call me Dino."

"Very well, Dino," said Lunafreya, examining his card before setting it down. "Hasn't the empire delivered a report?"

"You know the Niffs," said Dino, shrugging. "Minimalists, the lot of 'em."

Lunafreya nodded in understanding. The higher-ups in Niflheim preferred to keep their cards closer to their chest than either she or Lady Sylva. It was frankly a miracle Lady Sylva had managed to gain permission to inform their people of the alterations in the treaty. "I'll have to ask the chancellor for permission."

Dino raised his eyebrows. "Izunia's in the area?"

"Just for a few more days," said Lunafreya, uncomfortable with revealing such a thing to an unknown entity, even if he sympathized with Lucis. Perhaps _especially_ if he sympathized with Lucis, given their vehement hatred of all things imperial. She would prefer to know a little more about him and his personal agenda first. "What is your connection to Lucis?"

"I work for a publishing company there," said Dino, waving a hand. "Whether I'll keep it up after they sent me here is another story, but that's beside the point. How and why I started is a long story—you probably don't have the time. You'll just hafta trust me."

"Unfortunately, that is true," said Lunafreya, bowing her head briefly. For the moment, she could ask for no proof of his loyalties or reasoning. "But, that said, I _would_ like to talk to you later."

"Later?" asked Dino, sounding displeased, almost whiny. Clearly, for all his dedication in coming all the way to Tenebrae (whether of his own free will or not), he wasn't accustomed to more professional strains of journalism. "How do I know you're not just blowing me off?"

"You'll just have to trust me," said Lunafreya, echoing Dino's words. Writing down her details on the back of the card he had given her, she took another one as he offered it. "I'll call you as soon as may be to confirm a time."

Dino grinned. "It's a date."

* * *

Lunafreya hadn't expected that she would be allowed to speak to a reporter alone and unsupervised like this, especially not the very next day, but as it turned out, Ardyn had been surprisingly permissive—even after hearing that the reporter worked for a Lucian publication. _Why not?_ he had asked, stirring his tea. _You're as well-practiced at diplomatic dances as any former princess ought to be. Use your discretion._

She sat across from Dino in a more secluded sitting room, basic pleasantries completed, tea and coffee at the ready. This was technically a lunch appointment, given that it was noon, but Dino had assured her that his appetite tended toward the light while he was traveling, and Lunafreya hadn't had much of one lately, herself.

"What kind of details were you looking for?" asked Lunafreya, apprehensive despite herself. She wished more than anything else to trust this person, but she did have to know how much he expected. If she was giving information to Lucis, she wasn't qualified to reveal too much about the bigger picture.

"Don't worry," said Dino, preparing his notebook, and gave a small, somewhat lopsided smile. "If there's any truth to the rumors, Tenebrae and Lucis aren't too friendly at the moment. I'll keep the report brief and general."

Lunafreya relaxed slightly. "Thank you."

"So, tell me about this treaty," said Dino, eyes lingering on Lunafreya's face.

"In light of recent circumstances, Tenebrae has agreed to become a territory of Niflheim peacefully," said Lunafreya, reciting some of the words she had thought over so many times last night. "The treaty was based on the empire's existing arrangement with Accordo. Imperial laws and regulations will take effect throughout Tenebrae, and the area has been demilitarized."

"And the Tenebraen government?"

"Mostly intact," said Lunafreya. "My mother has abdicated the throne and is likely to be replaced by an imperial representative, and she will not be permitted to leave the region. Because of this, I have stepped down as princess and have ascended as Oracle in her stead." The cause-and-effect was not necessarily true, but it was convenient and logical. "My duty knows no borders. I will continue to visit Lucis whenever possible, and heal its people."

"Seems like a pretty sweet deal overall," said Dino, looking up from his notes. "But your brother, Prince Ravus—assuming he _is_ still a prince, anyway—he disagreed with all this, didn't he?"

"Yes," said Lunafreya, concealing her discomfort as best she could. _Disagreed_ was a definite understatement. "A disagreement which has since been resolved. He is simply a lord now."

" _Lord_ Ravus," said Dino, writing it down and underlining the new title emphatically. "Got it. And I gotta say, I'm glad to hear he's alive. Given the empire's policies when anyone steps outta line, someone musta had to do some pretty fancy dancing to get him pardoned."

Dino's eyes were piercing, curious, worthy of a journalist on the hunt for a good story. Lunafreya inclined her head only after a hesitation, and though he looked at her for a moment longer, he did not offer any additional comments. "Moving on, I hear you're all set to marry Chancellor Izunia."

Lunafreya's stomach lurched. "I am."

"That part of the treaty, too?"

Lunafreya inclined her head. "It is." She couldn't bring herself to elaborate on her own, nor to feign enthusiasm or even simple neutrality. This was one aspect of the treaty that still affected her on a deeper level than she cared to admit, which she had difficulties concealing from herself.

"I see," said Dino, jotting something down, and Lunafreya felt suddenly as exposed and vulnerable as if he intended to attack her with those words. (Perhaps _the pen is mightier than the sword_ had more than one meaning.) "How do you feel about that?"

"It is what is best for our people."

"No personal feelings?"

Lunafreya paused, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "I deeply regret that it was necessary to break the alliance between Tenebrae and Lucis. But I have hope that its people will follow mine into peace, that we will no longer have cause to oppose one another. This war has claimed more than enough lives already."

Dino nodded, taking notes. "What do you think of your husband-to-be?"

Lunafreya had to stop and consider the question for a moment. What _did_ she think of Ardyn Izunia? She had been so preoccupied with mourning the loss of Noctis and ascending as Oracle that she had scarcely had time to sit down and formulate a solid opinion. Or perhaps she had subconsciously avoided doing so.

Only after a long pause did she realize she had been unconsciously fidgeting with her engagement ring, which she had been wearing ever since Ardyn had imposed himself as a guest, and that Dino was eyeing her restless hands with some interest. Coloring slightly, she forced herself to be still. "He is a shrewd and capable man," said Lunafreya, "and has proven himself worthy of his title dozens of times over."

"Been hitting the history books lately?" asked Dino casually, making another quick note. "Anyone off the street could've told me that much. Sounds like you don't know much about him, yourself, if that's all you're giving me?" His voice turned up in a question.

Lunafreya nodded once after a brief hesitation. "I confess that my fiancé has thoroughly earned his reputation as enigmatic, but I look forward to learning more about him. He is… a fascinating individual, to say the least."

Dino grinned. "So he's crazy."

He was probably joking, but Lunafreya shook her head anyway, just to be safe. "From what I can tell, even if it runs contrary to popular belief, the chancellor is in full possession of all his mental faculties. His behavior is intriguing for precisely that reason."

"Huh," remarked Dino, writing, but then hesitated and looked up. "Oh yeah, one more thing. Off the record—did you love him?"

His question was so sudden and offhand that Lunafreya almost missed his meaning before her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Noctis. "Love… whom?" she asked, her voice faint to her own ears.

"Prince Noctis, of course."

Struggling to hide the extent to which Dino had disarmed her with such a question, Lunafreya made an effort at a smile. " _Off_ the record?"

Dino set his notebook down and raised his right hand. "Cross my heart. I just wanna know how I should spin this story, is all."

Lunafreya couldn't help but think he had mixed up his gestures somewhat, but chose not to comment. Instead, she let out a long breath, resolving to give voice to the truth. "Yes, I loved him," she said quietly. "But unfortunately, our marriage is not to be, and I _cannot_ let my feelings for him sway my decisions. Do you understand?"

As Lunafreya looked Dino full in the face, he met her eyes, whistling softly. "That's rough," he said, making one more tiny note in the margin. From how brief it was, it might have just been a doodled heart. "Can't say I really get it, but… for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Thank you," said Lunafreya, eager to move on to another subject. "Is there anything else?"

"Don't think so, actually," said Dino, closing his notebook and getting to his feet. "Thanks for your time, Princess—er, Lady Oracle. I'll be sure to send you a draft of the article before it gets published, just to make sure I'm not throwing a wrench anywhere important."

"Thank you," said Lunafreya, rising and curtsying.

Dino bowed somewhat awkwardly. "I'll see myself out."

Lunafreya nodded and watched him hustle away, but he skidded to a halt again as the door opened just before him to reveal Ardyn. The two of them stared one another down for a moment before Dino cleared his throat. "I was just leaving."

"Yes, I can see that," said Ardyn, smiling. "That is why I came now, and not after your departure. May I have a word?"

"Ah," said Dino, shifting uncomfortably in place, and stumbled back a few steps. "Yeah, sure. Sir."

"As I understand it, you've gotten my fiancée's take on the current situation," said Ardyn, looking entirely unperturbed by Dino's obvious nervousness. "I'm here to offer mine. Namely, one more addition that might be of interest to the good people of Lucis."

"Do tell," said Dino, readying his pen and notebook again.

"Instead of continuing to fight a losing battle, they can look forward to a treaty of their own, sooner rather than later," said Ardyn, and Dino stared at him as if trying to gauge whether he was serious. "Or at least the offer of one."

Lunafreya frowned. "I was under the impression that those arrangements were not yet finalized."

"That was today's work," said Ardyn. "I'd go and request an audience with King Regis myself, but I still have a few loose ends to tie up in Tenebrae, and I don't think my presence in the Lucian capital would be particularly welcome just yet. Instead, I sent off the draft just recently." He smiled broadly. "Isn't technology wonderful?"

"Yes, of course," responded Lunafreya awkwardly.

Dino looked almost as though he wanted to laugh, though restrained himself as he pocketed his pen and closed his notebook once more. "Thanks for your input, Chancellor," he said, bowing once more, and Ardyn stepped aside to let him pass, though he turned around to address them both again within a few steps. "Oh, and congrats on your wedding."

The words were just pointed enough that Lunafreya could discern Dino's veiled sarcasm, which meant Ardyn could certainly do the same, but he did not acknowledge it. "Thank you," he said instead, smiling, and glanced over at Lunafreya. "I couldn't ask for a more suitable wife, though I don't suppose Lucis will agree. I look forward to seeing how they take the news."

Rather than respond, Dino simply nodded, looking unnerved, before departing. Watching his hastily retreating back, Lunafreya sympathized wholeheartedly. How was any human being supposed to respond to _that_? It could not be clearer that Ardyn thought of this situation as a game, and further, that he was winning.

Lunafreya could only hope that, when all was said and done, Lucis— _Noctis_ —did not lose.


	6. Dances with Daemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ardyn asks two things of Lunafreya: a waltz, and her opinion on flowers.

Now that more immediate matters were taken care of, and now that the exact identity of Lunafreya's husband-to-be had finally made it to the rest of the Tenebraen citizens—for better or for worse—it was time to plan the wedding.

The ceremony was to be held in Altissia on the twenty-third of May, one week after Niflheim planned to offer the treaty to Lucis… which in turn was only two weeks from now. Lunafreya was more than a little surprised that they could start planning such a large event with so little notice, but with the rank and resources Ardyn had at his disposal, she supposed it made sense.

Especially since he had already tracked down her tailor to request a wedding dress that would fit her perfectly. Based on Ardyn's own attire, consistently dated and mismatched, Lunafreya had some doubts about his ability to design clothing, but kept them to herself. With luck, he had left that much to the dressmaker, who already knew her taste and style.

At least the minister had been of Lady Sylva's choosing, as Ardyn had a self-professed lack of confidence in the divine. _I doubt the Six would bless any man complicit in felling the Glacian_ , he had said, smiling as easily as though he had not spoken such blasphemy. _I have no interest in choosing a speaker for empty words._

But, to Lunafreya's secret satisfaction, even Ardyn could not escape the discussion of the ceremony.

Of course, Lunafreya had to suffer through it as well. Considering that she had avoided thinking too much about her marriage to Ardyn until now, it was nothing short of torture to painstakingly discuss so many details in which she might have taken joy under more favorable circumstances. As it was, the discussion dragged on for some time before the minister finally asked the most crucial question.

"One more thing," he said, checking the list he had brought. "We have established that the two of you are satisfied with most of the arrangements, and of course we can make adjustments in the coming weeks if need be. But when it comes to designing the ceremony itself, I would like to take your wishes into account first and foremost." He looked back up at Ardyn and Lunafreya in turn. "With regard to your vows, do you have any idea as to the words you wish to offer one another?"

"None whatsoever," said Ardyn, and though Lady Sylva's expression did not change, the minister looked almost alarmed. Clearly, he had not expected such an overtly casual response from the future groom. "But I'm sure our lady Oracle has some ideas."

Inclining her head in assent, Lunafreya took a deep breath. A traditional ceremony would suit them best; for one thing, she needed as many blessings as the gods could offer, regardless of whether Ardyn received any at all. "At the risk of prolonging the service somewhat, I wish to invoke the Twenty-Four Affirmations and Blessings of the Six in place of any more contemporary vows," she said, glancing over at Ardyn. "If there are no objections from my husband-to-be, of course."

"On the contrary," said Ardyn, smiling. "I've never been one for tradition, but in this case, it might serve us well. The Affirmations are centered more around commitment than love, are they not?"

Lunafreya's heart skipped an unpleasant beat as Ardyn saw straight through her intentions, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. Thankfully, the minister didn't seem to notice, though glanced curiously between them. "They are. The Affirmations are intended to foster peace and prosperity between each half of a couple and _encourage_ love, but make little mention of its prior existence. If any at all."

"Then while you're taking requests, you might consider striking that loathsome word from this little ceremony altogether," said Ardyn, and only now did Lady Sylva frown. "Otherwise, it might break suspension of disbelief, shall we say."

The minister blinked a few times as if startled, but bowed all the same. "As you wish, Chancellor." There wasn't anything else to be said.

An awkward silence ensued, and Lunafreya tried to think of a way to break it tactfully, but Lady Sylva was the one to change the subject. "Thank you for your kind assistance," she said, dipping her head, and the minister bowed automatically in response, looking somewhat relieved. "Please, have some tea with me before you go."

And just like that, they were gone.

Lunafreya found herself half surprised that her mother would leave her alone with Ardyn so willingly. Not that they had never been alone together over the past few days, but it had never been because Lady Sylva had left them that way. Then again, Lunafreya supposed there was no reason for her to have insisted on staying behind. If anything, her mother's decision to escort the minister elsewhere was a vote of confidence in Lunafreya's ability to handle herself.

As well as a reminder that the fate of Tenebrae rested on setting aside her mistrust.

Letting out a long breath, Lunafreya gazed out the window at the steady spring rain. Her strength had always lain in her sincerity, and while she had done her best to disguise her disinterest as diffidence for the sake of the treaty, there was no denying that she did not— _could never_ —love Ardyn Izunia. And, given that he had just instructed the minister to strike all mention of it from their wedding ceremony, she imagined he felt much the same way about her.

Perhaps, had Lunafreya not understood from Noctis what love was, her situation might not have seemed so bleak, but given what she knew of Ardyn as a person, she suspected it would always have been this unpleasant. As with every time she had been left alone with her fiancé, she felt a peculiar pressure from all sides, as though some external force was driving her deeper inside herself. They had already exhausted all the usual pleasantries at the start of today's visit. What more could they say or do now?

"You've seemed rather listless all day, Lady Lunafreya," remarked Ardyn, and she came back to herself with an unpleasant jolt as she realized that he was examining her expression closely. "Is something troubling you?"

Ardyn knew full well that it was their impending marriage that troubled her, exacerbated all the more now that they had turned their attention to planning it, but Lunafreya shook her head. "You're very kind to worry, but you needn't concern yourself with my condition."

"Nonsense," said Ardyn, waving a hand. "As your husband-to-be, it is my duty to ensure your health and happiness. If I can do anything to that end—short of breaking our engagement, of course—then I am at your service."

Lunafreya struggled not to stare. Ardyn may not have mentioned directly how undesirable a match theirs was, but their incompatibility was so readily evident that even mentioning their betrothal seemed to have become an unspoken taboo. After all, he was to wed an outsider, and Lunafreya an oppressor; whatever peace their marriage might solidify could only be lopsided. But, even if she detested lying, she could not admit this truth. "I simply have a slight headache. That's all."

Ardyn raised his eyebrows. "Remarkable, isn't it, the effects politics can have upon one's constitution," he said, keeping up with Lunafreya's train of thought effortlessly. "Personally, I find that a little light exercise works wonders to clear my head. Though it seems the weather has other ideas."

"Indeed," agreed Lunafreya, relieved at the prospects of staying indoors. The rain had never particularly bothered her, but it was a good excuse to keep Ardyn away from her field of sylleblossoms. That place was her only remaining escape; the last thing she wanted was to allow his unsettling aura to corrupt it too soon.

"Thankfully, Fenestala Manor is grand enough to accommodate a stroll if we so choose," said Ardyn thoughtfully. "But something tells me you're not in the mood. And I for one can think of a few more _practical_ things to do than go for a walk."

Lunafreya eyed Ardyn warily, taking automatic note of the space between them. (And the space between her and the door.) "I can't imagine what you mean."

Ardyn smiled at Lunafreya's discomfort. "For instance, I'm told weddings usually involve a dance, but I'm afraid my waltz is a bit rusty," he said, extending his hand. "Would you do me the honor of helping me practice?"

The question was a casual one, his tone light and conversational, but Lunafreya understood that the hand he offered would not be denied. Besides that, there was no logical reason for her to refuse. They'd have to practice sometime before the reception, anyway, and now was as good a time as any, even without music.

Yet still Lunafreya hesitated. Perhaps it was the small part of her that preferred to remain in denial of her situation, to keep dreaming of the day she would marry Noctis instead—a day which now could never come to pass. Or perhaps it was simply the air of disquiet Ardyn seemed to bring with him into every room, whispering that she should keep her distance. Either way, Lunafreya found that she had to force herself to reach out.

And, as their fingers brushed, she felt for herself the real reason why.

A sensation almost like static electricity prickled her skin, and she gasped from the shock, narrowly resisting the urge to snatch her hand back. Though Ardyn himself stood his ground, Lunafreya sensed a restless darkness like lightning seething beneath his skin. Like Starscourge, but somehow… stronger. Unlike the cases Lunafreya had cured, it did not rise to her touch so she could siphon it out and dissolve it in her light. On the contrary, its magnetism was so palpable that Lunafreya felt her energy drawn toward _it_ instead, as though beckoned forward by something in Ardyn's blood.

Wrenching her eyes from their hands, Lunafreya looked up at Ardyn to search his expression, but found no answers there. If anything, his countenance provided her with more questions. Judging by his faint and knowing smile, he was aware of his condition, yet he offered no explanation. And his eyes glinted as clearly as ever, no hint of darkness in their amber depths.

As the contradiction crossed her mind, Lunafreya's powers of light finally activated, sputtering to life as feebly as a flame in a storm. Her sluggish touch quickened once more, her body trembling as though she had just released a great weight, as her faint illumination struggled to balance out his shadows. But why now?

"This is the first time _you've_ touched _me_ ," said Ardyn, as though reading her thoughts, and Lunafreya jumped. As he withdrew his hand gently from hers, she felt as enervated as if he had taken a part of her with him. "And I doubt it will be the last. You'd best learn to restrain yourself as I do, my dear."

"I… yes," managed Lunafreya, interlocking her shaking fingers in an effort to steady herself. She had been made aware of Ardyn's darkness only because he had wanted her to know, and the realization sent a belated shudder through her body. How many other secrets did he hold, with no intention of explaining? _What_ was Lunafreya truly marrying?

If Ardyn was a daemon, he was like no other she had seen. Instead of seizing and overthrowing him, body and soul, the Starscourge had somehow been totally contained within his human form. In fact, it had been integrated with his being so seamlessly that she had never for a moment suspected him to be one of the afflicted. But how could such a thing be possible?

Lunafreya had heard rumors that Niflheim had been experimenting with daemons for years, but using its chancellor as a test subject seemed too great a risk even for the empire. Yet Ardyn could not have contracted Starscourge naturally; Lunafreya felt certain that no mortal man could master it. Such strength of body and will could not be human.

"I understand that this is something of a shock, but _do_ remember to keep my condition a secret on our wedding day," said Ardyn quietly, drawing Lunafreya out of her thoughts. "Lest the good people of Tenebrae rebel. Again."

"I—I will," said Lunafreya. She had no real choice: to expose Ardyn's disease in such a way would reflect badly on them both, revealing his corruption and highlighting her inability to heal him. "But what are you, that they will so despise?"

"Now, that _would_ be telling," said Ardyn, and offered his hand again with a persistent smile. "Shall we practice?"

* * *

Lunafreya did her best not to let Ardyn's condition affect her in the coming days, but could not help a renewed sense of restlessness and unease in his presence. Perhaps it was simply because she _knew_ of his affliction, or perhaps it was because her powers as Oracle had awakened more fully, but she found either way that she could feel his darkness approaching before he announced his presence.

At least that meant she had time to prepare herself, but in the midst of an embroidery lesson with Maria to keep herself occupied, she could not warn her without explaining how she knew. Though she could not pretend to be startled by the knock on the sitting-room door, she could at least look up and ask, "Who is it?"

"Guess," said Ardyn, his tone amused, and Lunafreya struggled not to grimace. Even around Maria, she had to be careful not to let her true feelings show, if only because she wanted to avoid breaking her heart too. Being like a grandmother to Lunafreya, Maria had always wanted the best for her in love, and Ardyn was far from it in both their estimations.

"Ardyn Izunia," said Lunafreya, employing his full name to get around her continued reluctance to use only his first. "Please, come in." While having agreed to call him Ardyn, and having gotten used to doing so in her thoughts, she usually found herself calling him nothing at all aloud. After all, he still called her _Lady_ Lunafreya, so it seemed to her there was an imbalance.

The door opened, and Ardyn sauntered in. "I was wondering if I might have a word with you," he said, glancing at Maria with dry curiosity. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Nothing I cannot pick up at a later time," said Lunafreya, also looking over at Maria. Understanding her cue, she rose, curtsied, and departed in a hurry, only looking back at her with some apprehension before closing the door softly behind her.

Ardyn chuckled, crossing his arms. "While I certainly respect the command you hold over your servants," he said in a low voice, practically making Lunafreya shudder from how dismissively he spoke of them, "there was really no need to go to such lengths. I come bearing no confidential information."

"All things ought to be confidential in politics," said Lunafreya, setting down her embroidery somewhat reluctantly.

"Oh?" asked Ardyn, smiling. "I didn't take you for the secretive type, Lady Lunafreya. I must admit I'm intrigued." He seated himself on a chaise longue across from Lunafreya, swinging one leg over the other, leaning on his elbow. "But that's a conversation for another time, unfortunately. For now, I was only curious about a few more trivial wedding arrangements. Specifically, flowers."

Lunafreya blinked. "I thought Mother recommended a florist."

"Ah, but are florists as well versed in symbolism as the Oracle?" asked Ardyn, tilting his head, and Lunafreya realized that her childhood interest in flower language was soon to be called upon. "Obviously, you will be represented by sylleblossoms, but I don't identify quite as strongly with imperial fritillary. I was hoping that you could help me find a suitable alternative."

The power and majesty symbolized by such a flower certainly suited his position as well as that of the empire as a whole, but if Ardyn insisted on an alternative, then Lunafreya had no choice but to make a suggestion. But there were so many flowers to choose from; it would be more helpful if Ardyn could narrow the field, so to speak. "Did you have any ideas?"

Ardyn's smile widened slightly. "What do you think of marigolds?"

Lunafreya couldn't help the slightest frown. From what she recalled, most varieties of marigold were traditionally representative of grief, despair, unease, jealousy, or vulgarity—hardly an inspiring choice for wedding flowers, no matter how pretty the arrangements. But she couldn't bring herself to point it out directly; she had to think of an excuse. "I… would have thought red flowers might be more appropriate for Niflheim." Imperial fritillary among them.

"Fair enough," said Ardyn, affecting disappointment. "I confess I suggested marigolds because dandelions aren't viewed as anything more than common weeds."

"I wasn't aware that anyone liked dandelions," said Lunafreya, trying to understand the idea of _liking_ such stubborn weeds. (Though it was worth noting that, despite their everyday connotations, dandelions were an ironically more suitable choice for the occasion, given that they represented prophecy.)

"Why, they're my favorite flower," said Ardyn, raising his eyebrows, and Lunafreya found herself mirroring the gesture. Somehow, that explained quite a bit, though she had no time to reflect on how in the moment. "But that's really beside the point. If the color is not to your taste, what about one of the red varieties of marigold?"

Lunafreya pursed her lips. If she was lucky, the red kind of marigold might represent much the same thing as dandelions, though she preferred not to take that chance. "I'm… not as fond of marigolds, I'm afraid," she said, lowering her eyes as much because she could barely meet Ardyn's as out of apology. "Do you have any other ideas?"

When Lunafreya glanced back up again, she found Ardyn's eyes lingering on her face, and blushed automatically at the intensity of his attention. Yet his tone was light, almost innocent. "Dahlias, perhaps? Or begonias? Those can be red."

Instability? _Dark thoughts_? Considering that there were much more obvious choices for red flowers, there was no way Ardyn didn't understand what he was saying about their connection. Perhaps she ought to suggest an alternative with a more benign meaning, just to see how he took it. "Considering that our wedding is to be traditional, perhaps red roses would be best." Everyone, even those less interested in symbolism, knew their connection to love.

"If tradition is your aim, perhaps you might find that red carnations better suit the occasion," said Ardyn, and Lunafreya frowned. All carnations were unlucky, but she had to recall the specific meaning of red. Lamentation and heartbreak? Fitting for her situation, but not for a wedding. "Their ruffles would set off the petals of the sylleblossom all the more, don't you think?"

"I had thought our respective flowers would have separate arrangements, each interspersed with white," said Lunafreya, taking the opportunity to change the subject and recalibrate her mental imagery. "I would not have suggested red had I known you intended to place it among the blue." Such a choice would be eye-catching, but for all the wrong reasons. One would expect their wedding to be similarly exuberant, and be disappointed by its solemnity.

"I'm surprised at you, my dear," said Ardyn, and Lunafreya managed to meet his eyes with some difficulty. "Our wedding is intended to promote unity, and you suggest _separate_ flower arrangements?"

Lunafreya sighed, conceding his point in a breath. "Forgive me," she said, rising, and paced to the window with measured steps. "Perhaps white would suit the occasion better, then."

"On that much we can agree," said Ardyn, and Lunafreya felt from the positioning of his voice that he had gotten to his feet too. "If you liked the idea of roses so much, why not white roses?"

The idea made Lunafreya scowl, though thankfully her back was to Ardyn. _I am worthy of you_. Such a bold assertion, and blatantly untrue in several respects, not that she could afford even to imply as much. She would have to find another way to turn him down. "I was not attached to the idea," said Lunafreya, keeping her voice as even as possible. "It was simply a suggestion."

"Well, perhaps grown roses _would_ outshine the sylleblossoms," said Ardyn, with an air of musing. "Rosebuds may be better, especially if they're my flower. I don't particularly like to stand out."

"White rosebuds?" asked Lunafreya, considering it more seriously now. That was more suitable, considering they were intended to represent a heart ignorant of love, and Ardyn's had likely never known love in however many years it had been beating. "Those might work."

"A compromise reached at last," said Ardyn, stepping forward to stand beside Lunafreya, and looked down at her. She had rarely felt so small as in that moment, feeling trapped even with a window just beside her. "Tell me, what do they mean?"

Lunafreya made an effort at a smile. "Coldheartedness."

She didn't know what she expected, but it was not for Ardyn to let out a bark of laughter, and she couldn't help but stare at him despite herself. Not that Lunafreya would rather he be _offended_ , but she didn't find much humor in it and certainly didn't anticipate that Ardyn would. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning against the wall. "Sylleblossoms and white rosebuds it is."

"You're…" Astonished all over again, Lunafreya had to pause to find the right words. "This is how you wish to be represented, then?"

"But of course," said Ardyn, inscrutable as ever. "I see no need to pretend warmth where there is none, and hardly anyone knows flower language to the extent of an Oracle anyway. I've heard that the women in your lineage usually develop an interest thanks to the sylleblossoms."

Amid her lingering shock that Ardyn would willingly accept being associated with such a negative trait, Lunafreya spotted an opportunity to know more about her fiancé, and took it. "But your knowledge of flora is impressive, even if you claim it is not on par with mine," she said, turning to face him fully. No one referred to floral symbolism as _flower language_ except those fluent in it. "Do you know much about flower language?"

"Oh, this and that," said Ardyn, gesturing vaguely, his answer utterly unsatisfying. "I don't know much, let alone in great detail. But a few meanings have stuck in my mind over the years, you see, despite my best efforts."

"Come now, my bridegroom," said Lunafreya, ignoring Ardyn's odd phrasing and trying another tack. "If I have any interest in secrecy, it is nothing to yours. I will be your wife within a few weeks, you know."

Ardyn chuckled, evidently amused. "Then ask me again when we are wed, and I may have a different answer," he said, taking Lunafreya's hand to kiss it in their traditional parting, and she frowned as he released it again and turned away. She thought he would say no more, having again evaded any attempt to get to know him, but as he reached the door, he glanced back at her with a smile that gave her a strange sense of hope. "Perhaps I'll even answer it with flowers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sources do vary on the meanings of the flowers mentioned here, but I promise I didn't make them up entirely, even though my source _is_ over a hundred years old.


	7. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya receives some sound advice and some terrible news.

Time passed quickly over the next couple weeks, but not pleasurably so.

With the exception of Ardyn's departure, of course. He was scheduled to leave Tenebrae some time before Lunafreya, first to make the necessary preparations for the treaty with Lucis, and then to visit in person. _Don't worry, Lady Lunafreya_ , he had said upon his departure, kissing the back of her hand one last time, and smiled. _I'm sure you'll miss me dearly, but we'll be reunited in Altissia before long_.

Ardyn's words had been more a warning than reassurance, and had haunted Lunafreya's dreams. Perhaps she had imagined the subtle threat in his low voice, the suggestion that he would find her and drag her to the altar if she fled. Not that she had any intention of running from any of her duties, marriage included, but even in Ardyn's absence, the feeling of being trapped had not lessened in the slightest.

Now that the most important preparations for the ceremony were out of the way—and Dino's article properly vetted and sent off for publication—Lunafreya occupied much of her time with continuing to prepare herself for the role of Oracle. The strongest opinion she had was ensuring that Noctis received an invitation to her wedding, since Niflheim would soon arrive in Insomnia anyway. She could only hope he did not think of it as an insult.

Finally, it was the eve of Lunafreya's departure. Though Ravus would be accompanying her, Lady Sylva could not, being under something like house arrest for the time being. Yet Lunafreya couldn't shake the feeling that even if she had been permitted to leave, she would not have been _able_ to do so. The more time Lunafreya had spent among the people of Tenebrae, learning to use her powers, the more time Lady Sylva had spent in her room, and she couldn't help but worry that devotion to her work had not been the only cause.

As soon as she entered Lady Sylva's room to say her goodbyes, she felt that something had changed. Her mother's condition had not initially concerned Lunafreya a great deal, considering the sheer amount of planning she had taken upon her own shoulders, but Lady Sylva looked distinctly older and wearier. "My love," she greeted, approaching with what seemed to be an effort, and clasped both Lunafreya's hands and kissing her forehead. "I am sorry that you must go forth and heal the world while your own heart is still so wounded."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," said Lunafreya, making an effort at a smile.

Lady Sylva almost cut her off. Evidently, there was something of importance to be discussed. "You are familiar with your destiny by now, yes?"

Lunafreya bowed her head. She had been trying not to think about it, especially not now that she and Noctis could never work together as closely as they had once assumed, but… "I know it," she said, with as much conviction as she could muster. "The road ahead won't be easy, but I am as prepared as I can be."

"You'll need to be very careful if you mean to avoid casting too much doubt on your loyalties," said Lady Sylva, smiling a little sadly. Even though the empire intended to offer peace to Lucis, if they knew the Chosen King's role in the world—that he was destined to inherit all the powers of the Crystal they sought—they would undoubtedly oppose him.

"Yes." Lunafreya couldn't think of anything else to say.

Turning away, Lady Sylva began pacing, albeit slowly. "As inopportune as it is, it would be best if you could make contact with the Hydraean during your stay in Altissia," she said, and Lunafreya pressed her lips together, trying to strategize. "She is fearsome, even among the Astrals, but she is as beholden to the Oracle as all others under Bahamut's command. Steel your heart, my child; I will send the Trident as a wedding gift, to speed you on your way."

Lunafreya frowned. She had not thought she would need to make contact with any of the Six so soon, let alone make her first covenant with as potentially vicious a deity as Leviathan. "Is my time so limited?"

Lady Sylva let out a long breath. " _That_ much no mortal can say," she said, pausing at the window, running her hands restlessly along the sill. "But my dreams have been troubled, even after relinquishing my title. I sense a great restlessness on the horizon, so profound that even if the empire establishes peace, all may not be well for some time."

 _If_? The prospects of the empire's betrayal were more than a little daunting to consider, given the helplessness of Lunafreya's situation. "Do you not believe the empire will make good on their promise?"

"I _want_ to believe they will," said Lady Sylva quietly. "If only so that I may have the comfort of knowing I have not allowed my daughter to marry into a den of complete scoundrels. But you and I both know that Lucis is not keen to make peace on Niflheim's terms." Her eyes turned faraway. "Regardless of how the political situation may change in the weeks and months to come, it is advisable that you establish as many covenants as you can. One never knows how soon the Chosen King's destiny may come upon him."

Lunafreya bowed her head, remembering Noctis's anger, and barely managed to suppress a shudder of guilt and regret, forcing her mind to another subject. She remembered precious little of Lady Sylva's visits to Lucis, as they had always gone there separately for safety's sake. "Have you already spoken with the Six, Mother?" Perhaps that might be of some use to her, if she inherited any relationship to them, though she had not felt any special connection to the Astrals since the ritual.

Lady Sylva looked back at Lunafreya. "I have already awakened the Glacian, the Archaean, and the Fulgurian, yes," she said, walking forward to rest a reassuring hand on Lunafreya's shoulder. "But, though their power may be yours in name, it may be harder to secure in deed. To ensure their respect and cooperation, you must visit them and renew the covenants I have already established, as well as forging your own."

"I understand," said Lunafreya, dipping her head. "I will consult the Cosmogony as soon as may be." Her mind at present was occupied with memorizing her part of the wedding ceremony. "Is there a ritual to be learned?"

To Lunafreya's astonishment, Lady Sylva shook her head. "Not the kind that is spoken," she said, cupping Lunafreya's face, and smiled. "As the Oracle, you will sing the song of the stars, and the Six will make it clear what is required of you." She kissed Lunafreya's forehead. "I have faith that you will know how to act when the time comes."

"Thank you, Mother," said Lunafreya, feeling that their parting was at hand, and found herself seized by sudden fear. She felt more acutely than ever that she was about to leave all she had ever known, and the desire to cling to her mother and hide behind her skirts like a little girl was overwhelming. But Lunafreya had scarcely had that luxury even when she _was_ a little girl, so she suppressed it.

"Go in peace, my dearest Lunafreya," murmured Lady Sylva, her touch lingering on Lunafreya's hands as she released them. "Live well. And may the gods guide you in the days to come."

Lunafreya could think of no response but to lean in and kiss her mother on the cheek. She felt herself on the verge of tears, but could not bear to break Lady Sylva's heart by shedding them. Instead, she braved a smile and turned away to take her leave.

Having so little to do in Fenestala Manor before her departure felt surreal; all that remained was to collect Ravus. Their things had already been loaded into the same carriage that had taken Lunafreya to the train station last time. Old-fashioned as it was, there was no better way to get from Tenebrae to the last train station in the empire. The only difference was that this time, her stop was not Gralea, but a small port city, home to the boat that would carry her to Altissia.

As Lunafreya reached the foyer, still caught up in her thoughts, the click of claws on stone caught her attention. She turned to find Pryna trotting forward, her tail wagging, and stooped to pet her. Lunafreya had rarely seen her alone before, and almost asked after Umbra before remembering that she had sent him to look after Noctis.

But Pryna had not come alone after all, as a familiar chill lowered the temperature. Lunafreya glanced up at Gentiana, less surprised to see her than perhaps she should be. "Have you come to see me off?"

Gentiana shook her head, her eyes remaining closed. "There is no need to bid the lady farewell," she said, placing her hands before her. As a smile touched her dark lips, Lunafreya couldn't help but return the gesture. "The High Messenger is always with her."

Even as she spoke, footsteps approached, but halted abruptly at the top of the stairs. _Ravus_. Though he inclined his head to acknowledge the Messengers, the motion was short, and he did not move his eyes from the entirely unperturbed Gentiana. He had never trusted her the way Lunafreya did, but he still knew better than to disrespect the High Messenger outright.

As Ravus started walking again, Gentiana vanished as though she were a mirage dispelled by his presence, and Pryna gave Lunafreya's hand one last lick before trotting away. Coming to a stop again at the foot of the stairs, Ravus seemed the slightest bit more at ease in the absence of the supernatural, though there was still a restless tension about his aura that had possessed him since Tenebrae's surrender. "Are you ready, Sister?"

Lunafreya sighed. "As ready as I will ever be," she said truthfully, straightening up. "Are _you_?"

"Not in the slightest," said Ravus, astonishing Lunafreya with his honesty. She couldn't remember the last time he neglected to put up a strong front in her presence. "But I, like you, have no choice but to pretend otherwise." He reached out his human hand, and Lunafreya took it, more innocent times flashing through her mind. "Let us go. The road ahead is a long one."

* * *

The storm broke faster than Lunafreya ever could have anticipated.

She had only been at sea for most of a day. The skies overhead remained clear and blue, but felt empty somehow, the open expanse of the ocean making Lunafreya more nervous even than she had been before her audience with Emperor Aldercapt. Ravus had offered her medication for seasickness more than once, but it was her heart that felt sick—even before the news came, bringing with it the restlessness her mother described.

No, not restlessness; the world felt too frozen for any such rapid motion. This was _despair_ , cold and aching in Lunafreya's gut, the moment she followed her brother swiftly belowdecks to hear the dispassionate imperial voice on the radio: Insomnia had fallen into Niflheim's hands.

"No," whispered Lunafreya, unable even to imagine the Crown City in ruins, the number of lives that might have been lost, the fates of those she loved. Her head spun, and Ravus caught her, bringing her to her bed so she could sit. "This cannot be…"

"But it is," said Ravus shortly, his human knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the bedside table. "I knew it. I should have…" He trailed off, shaking his head, his hair falling into his face in the moment before he shoved it out of his way with artificial fingers. Lunafreya could not bring herself to reassure him that none of them could have done anything. It felt hollow even in her own mind, or worse, untrue.

There was no way that King Regis, a wise and just monarch who must have been well aware of his country's position in a war that had lasted centuries, could have rejected Niflheim's proposal. The empire must have betrayed their trust in some way, and in a state of shock like this, Lunafreya couldn't help but think that if they were going to turn on Tenebrae like this in the end anyway, then perhaps it would have been better for both her and Ravus to have gone down fighting after all.

A dry sob wrenched itself out of Lunafreya's lungs, and only as she heard it—distantly, as though it came from outside herself—did she realize that all strength had gone from her limbs. As she sank down onto her pillow, Ravus sat beside her, resting his human fingers on her shoulder. Lunafreya longed for the days when she was capable of doing anything other than crying, thinking bitterly that soon she may not even be able to do that much.

The thought only brought more tears to her eyes, and she pressed her face into her pillow to try and muffle the noise. She couldn't help but feel that she was being forced to witness the annihilation of a country she had considered a second home for so long. Even if King Regis and Noctis had somehow made it out of Insomnia, they would still be in serious danger for as long as Niflheim still occupied their lands…

Ravus was already speaking by the time Lunafreya tuned back into her surroundings. "There's still time," he said, his voice a low murmur. "We have a week in Altissia before the ceremony. You and I can…"

Lunafreya's ears were ringing from the sound of her own heartbeat and uneven breathing, but she could hear enough of what Ravus was saying to know that he meant to suggest running away. That could only bring more suffering; Lunafreya shook her head, even before she fully understood the implications. "N-no, Ravus."

" _Lunafreya_ ," protested Ravus, his voice more surprised than anything else, though Lunafreya guessed his disapproval would not be long after (and was proven right almost immediately). "You intend to go through with this?"

"What else can I do, Ravus?" asked Lunafreya, raising her head to glare at him, swallowing another sob and trying to even out her breathing. "I will not turn my back on my duty. Lucis has already fallen; all I can do is protect what remains of Tenebrae." She sniffled self-consciously, closing her eyes. "And I… perhaps it's wishful thinking, but I may be able to use my status to… to do the same for Lucis."

Ravus sighed, and Lunafreya opened her eyes again blearily to find that his jaw was clenched in suppressed anger, but he'd evidently had enough experience with her stubbornness to know that further resistance was futile. "Fine," he said, and though his exasperation was clear, his tone was unexpectedly soft. "But, Sister… remember to look after yourself first."

Lunafreya nodded wearily, closing her eyes once more. "I'll start with taking a rest," she said, the most she could promise, and reached for her brother's hand. "But please… stay with me."

* * *

When Lunafreya arrived in Altissia the next day, her first words to the attendants that greeted them were _take me to Chancellor Izunia_.

Thankfully, they did not delay in the slightest (despite her directness), though Lunafreya was somewhat puzzled by their apparent destination. She had not known that Ardyn had an office in Camelia Claustra's headquarters, though she supposed she ought not be surprised, since Accordo was under imperial jurisdiction. Still, it struck her as odd all the same. Would he set up his own space in Fenestala Manor, too?

"Ardyn," said Lunafreya, striding into his office as soon as she was shown the way—strategically leaving Ravus in the lobby, as diplomacy would be made even more difficult with him at her side. "What happened to peace?"

Glancing up from his papers, Ardyn raised his eyebrows, but was otherwise apparently unperturbed. "Lunafreya, my dear," he said, getting to his feet, and she realized somewhat belatedly that he had not included her title. "Are we on a first-name basis now after all?"

"Don't change the subject," said Lunafreya, taking a step back as Ardyn reached her. His presence was all the more loathsome to her now, and their connection all the more repulsive, now that she knew of Insomnia's fate. "What happened in Lucis?"

"Ah," said Ardyn, feigning surprise. "That. Yes, I thought you might have questions."

"And?" Lunafreya had endured Ardyn's games long enough, had been polite long enough. He may well have been responsible for ending the lives of people she considered as dear as family, and that combined with their impending wedding—more a prison sentence, in her view—did not put her in a charitable mood.

"Well, I think you'll find that the answer is really quite simple," said Ardyn, with a condescending air of patience. "As you'll undoubtedly recall, I promised that the empire would extend an _offer_ of peace. There was never a guarantee that Lucis would see fit to accept it."

It would be far too dangerous for Lunafreya to voice her suspicions of treachery, especially to Ardyn's face, so she found herself speechless instead. In an attempt to steady herself, she took a deep breath, to no avail. What had become of Noctis? The Crystal? Were they as lost a cause as Insomnia?

"You look unwell, Lunafreya," said Ardyn, breaking into her thoughts, and Lunafreya realized too late how close he had moved. As he steadied her with a hand at her side, she struggled against the sudden urge to shove him away. "Are you all right?"

"How can I be?" asked Lunafreya, turning her face aside, resisting the impulse to grit her teeth. "After all those lives lost in Insomnia?" She barely suppressed a more direct accusation: _after all those lives you took_. "Is there any news on His Ma—" Lunafreya caught herself. "King Regis?"

Ardyn looked at Lunafreya with mild curiosity. "None I am obligated to share," he said, moving smoothly on before she could endanger herself with an outburst. "Let us say he is dead. Are you satisfied?"

Lunafreya stared at Ardyn blankly. "Is he?"

"There are some things people would rather die defending than surrender and live," said Ardyn idly, though Lunafreya got the feeling he was keeping half an eye on her reaction. From what she could tell, he thoroughly enjoyed provoking people, and Lunafreya refused to be a pawn in his games. "I believe the Crystal served that purpose for King Regis… though I wasn't responsible for ending his life, if that makes you feel better."

"As a matter of fact, it does not," said Lunafreya curtly, resolving not to dwell on worst-case scenarios if Ardyn insists on jerking her around like this. For all she knows, King Regis yet lived, and Ardyn was playing with her emotions. It would not be the first time.

Ardyn smiled, apparently taking great pleasure in her shortened temper. "Really?" he asked, tilting his head. "I'd imagine you'd feel worse if I _was_."

Lunafreya glared at Ardyn. His attempts at humor only served to darken the situation all the more. "I had hoped you might be able to explain the empire's conduct to me in a way I might understand, but if that is all you have to say, then I will take my leave," she said, curtsying abruptly, waiting for Ardyn to say something, anything that might convince her there was a scrap of humanity in his heart.

Evidently, he had no intention of indulging her. "By all means, then," said Ardyn, waving a hand, and sauntered back over to his desk to resume his work. "And _do_ speak to your brother about keeping the peace."

* * *

This time, the days dragged on more slowly than ever before.

Even with a week to prepare herself, mentally and otherwise—her only meetings with Ardyn were during their rehearsals—Lunafreya found no joy even in a city full of distractions. Her head remained preoccupied with her upcoming marriage to a murderer, her heart so much heavier in her chest that she barely felt like herself anymore. Altissia, while a bustling and vibrant city, only reminded her too much of what Insomnia once had been. Growing more listless by the day, her appetite having vanished, Lunafreya had to rely on Ravus's reminders to tell her when to eat.

Until, at length, it was the night before the wedding.

Lunafreya couldn't sleep, but these were no happy jitters that kept her awake, no hopeful anticipation of the day to come. This was insomnia of a different kind, stifling and persistent. Even knowing herself to be exhausted in every way, so much so that she could barely even think anymore, she could not give herself over to rest. Concluding that it was futile to keep trying, she resigned herself to imagining her ceiling back at home, painted with the constellations, counting those stars from memory.

"The lady is conflicted," murmured Gentiana's voice, and Lunafreya turned her head to find her approaching. "Her mind and heart are at odds. There is but one path to follow, and she must walk it in chains."

Lunafreya opened her mouth to speak, but had to swallow instead as her throat seemed to close up. She had been too afraid of being spied on to try summoning her earlier, but she felt in that moment that the High Messenger was who and what she needed most in the world. "Oh, Gentiana," she said, her voice coming out almost a whimper, but she had no tears left. "What can I do?"

"Listen not to the mind nor the heart, but to the gods," said Gentiana softly. "Remember that the destiny ordained by the Draconian does not bow to mortal avarice." Lunafreya took a deep breath, feeling more at peace already. Yes; of course the Six wouldn't let their Chosen King, at the very least, die so soon. But Gentiana's last point catches her off guard. "And… accept the blessing of the Glacian."

Lunafreya frowned, confused, but her eyes widened a moment later. The chill Gentiana usually brought with her grew sharper, frost edging the nightstand, a wintry wind blowing from nowhere. Lunafreya shivered, pulling her blankets farther up, only to find that a fine snowy mist had begun encompassing her room, Gentiana's silhouette becoming less and less distinct.

"Gentiana?" asked Lunafreya, her voice weak from astonishment, as she began to understand for the first time the subdued sense of cold Gentiana brought with her upon manifesting in the human world. The Glacian? Was Gentiana not a Messenger, then, but one of the Six themselves…?

As though her realization triggered something, the mist dissipated. The woman Lunafreya saw before her was no longer Gentiana, but Shiva herself—hovering in place, inhuman and beautiful. "Shiva," said Lunafreya breathlessly, scrambling to sit up so she could bow her head properly. "I'm… so sorry." For all the times she might have treated her with less respect than she deserved.

Shiva chuckled quietly, speaking another language, but Lunafreya could sense the echo of Gentiana's voice, an instinctive translation. _This Oracle restored a faith the Glacian had long since lost,_ she said, a gentle whisper Lunafreya could feel more than hear. _She has already proven herself, time and time again, so the Frostbearer will lend her assistance until her faith returns as well, as is my duty._ Their eyes met and locked. _Will she accept this blessing for herself, no longer inherited from her mother, and enter into a covenant with Shiva?_

"I will," said Lunafreya, bowing her head. She had not thought it so simple, but she supposed that she had the advantage of having been acquainted with Shiva as Gentiana long enough that further tests were unnecessary. And, despite all that had happened, she could not help but smile, albeit faintly, at the prospects of engaging in her very first covenant with someone she knew so much better than a strange and fierce goddess of the sea.

Smiling as well, Shiva drifted to lie over Lunafreya, extending a finger to press against her heart, pushing her back to the bed. Though it was a light touch, she couldn't help but gasp at the pain filling her body, so cold it seemed hot. Her instinct was to writhe, but her very being seemed frozen in place. It was over in a moment, but it felt much longer, her heart feeling as though it had been turned to ice; it palpitated a few times before beginning to beat properly once more.

"Gen—Shiva?" mumbled Lunafreya, sitting up and looking around for her half deliriously, but found that she had gone, along with any evidence that she had ever been there. Only the lingering feeling of cold or heat remained, and it seemed to be consuming her in pulsations that urged her to sleep. Losing all will to fight for wakefulness in a world she only wished to escape, Lunafreya fell back onto her bed and finally into her dreams.


	8. The Chancellor's Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ardyn and Lunafreya enter into holy matrimony.

Lunafreya was awakened early the next morning by a knock at the door, followed by a flock of attendants.

Her first conscious thoughts were of Gentiana, or… Shiva, she supposed, and she caught herself looking around for her amid the group of unfamiliar faces, only to discover that she was still nowhere to be found. Only the slight chill in Lunafreya's heart indicated that her first covenant had not been a dream, and even that might have stemmed from her growing sense of foreboding rather than a newly formed covenant.

She had assumed that establishing her first direct connection with one of the Six might have more lingering effects, but as she was ushered into the adjoining room so she could bathe, all she felt was the natural exhaustion that stemmed from having lost some hours of sleep. That was challenging enough for her to handle, but fortunately, the servants did not seem to require more than her physical presence as they set to work.

Though Lunafreya had tried on her wedding dress before to ensure that no adjustments need be made, donning it for the occasion itself was another matter. Her tailor had thankfully adhered not only to her measurements but to her style, and it was as perfect as all else he had ever sewn for her. Lunafreya only wished she could take more joy in its beauty, or thank the servants more sincerely for their comments on her loveliness.

Her mind had been fixated on the situation in Lucis for some time, but she hadn't recognized until now that such preoccupation had actually been a blessing. Now, her mind could not be turned from her immediate future. The ceremony she had practiced so soullessly alongside Ardyn would soon become reality, and this time, she would need to make more of an effort to sound as though she meant what she said.

Lunafreya kept quiet for much of the process, but at least remembered to thank the servants for their hard work once it was finally complete, ensuring that all of them were invited to the reception, before they finally departed. Even when she remembered to breathe, she could do so only shallowly. She scarcely recognized the woman in the mirror, all red lips and dark lashes, a striking contrast to the purest white of her gown. (At least she had been allowed to leave behind her engagement ring, even if it meant that another, still more enduring band would soon replace it.)

Walking to the window to look out over the city, Lunafreya brushed her hands along the spotless sill. It was a beautiful morning in Altissia, but she gained no comfort from the sunshine sparkling on the water, preoccupied with the hour to come. The vows she had whispered to herself every spare moment filled her mind until she could think of little else, focusing on ensuring that she had every phrase memorized. It helped, of course, that Ardyn would speak the same words just before, but she could not afford to misstep in any way. Not on today of all days.

Lunafreya did not know how much time passed before Ravus came for her. The first indication of his presence was a soft knock at the door, which Lunafreya did not initially register before she recognized that perhaps _this_ visitor did not already have a key. Hurrying over to the door, she opened it to find her brother, his expression somewhere between concerned and somber.

"Ravus," said Lunafreya, trying not to show her reluctance to acknowledge the time, and made an effort at a smile. Her brother had looked tense all week, but now, he seemed wound so tightly he might snap. That, combined with his attire—mostly black, as though for a funeral—was more than enough to suggest that his mood came close to matching hers. "There's no need to look so grim; I am not going to my death."

Evidently, Ravus was not in the mood for Lunafreya's attempt at levity, as he simply crossed his arms, his expression unchanging. "Are you ready, Sister?" There was an unusual undercurrent of desperation in his question, an entreaty for her to reconsider.

But instead, she said, "Yes," took his arm, and they departed.

* * *

It did not take long for Lunafreya to reach the church, but it took more time to finalize the preparations than she expected, particularly as Ardyn had not yet arrived—and would not arrive until the ceremony itself, according to the minister. Not that Lunafreya would ever complain about his absence, but it did mean that all the trivial last-minute arrangements were left up to her, from décor placement to ensuring that there were the proper number of chairs at each table.

By the time the guests started arriving what must have been at least an hour later, Lunafreya found herself already so fatigued that she could not imagine greeting anyone personally. Thankfully, as she soon discovered, such a thing was not expected of her: Ravus escorted her to the back of the cathedral before she could even be seen. Once he guided her into a small room near an alternate exit, equipped with a confession booth, she was finally allowed to rest until the wedding itself.

Lunafreya was able to meditate enough to clear her mind, which was a mercy, but she could not concentrate for the entire time before the ceremony. After what must have been at least half an hour, she felt that waiting for the music to cue her arrival took more years off her life than the fate of the Oracle ever could. Still, she at least managed to numb all impulses to confess her emotional infidelity to an invisible minister, or more tempting still, to flee through that open door.

At length, the moment arrived, and Lunafreya's breath caught. Almost at the same moment, Ravus knocked on the doorframe to alert Lunafreya to his presence, and she jumped. This time, he said nothing at all, but there was no need for words when he wore such a solemn expression. Lunafreya knew exactly what was expected of her, and rose, walking toward her brother to take his arm as if in a trance. Her thoughts had become distant and dreamlike, and were the only reason she did not lose her nerve the moment she set foot outside.

They started moving, circling around the periphery of the cathedral before coming in through the entrance. Taking strength from her position still at Ravus's side, Lunafreya kept her eyes downcast as she walked down the aisle. More than anything else, she was afraid that if she looked up to see her bridegroom before she reached his side, she might lose her little remaining hope and courage.

Only once Ravus released Lunafreya and she came to a halt where Ardyn stood did she dare take in his appearance, and found herself at a complete loss as to how she should react. He was practically unrecognizable, dressed in attire almost befitting of a king. His outfit was almost Lucian in its style, but in the empire's white. His head was uncovered as if in deference, but despite the richness of his appearance, it seemed that he couldn't be bothered to shave even for his wedding.

The music ended, the guests all sat—Lunafreya, having avoided looking at them so as not to get stage fright of a sort, had not realized they were standing—and the minister stepped forward to address all those assembled. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of the Six to join together Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim, and Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, former Princess of Tenebrae and newly named Oracle of the Hexatheon, in holy matrimony." He gestured to each of them as he spoke. "Yet neither I, nor all society, can join these two today. Only they can finalize their sacred agreement and join themselves, each to the other, for the sake of their people and our star."

The minister looked up at the rest of the congregation to speak to them specifically, and Lunafreya recognized the addition characteristic of arranged political marriages. "We, by our participation in this solemn and luminous occasion, do but recognize and honor their intention to dwell together as husband and wife. We represent symbolically all the people in the world who will be touched in any way by the shared life of this couple, and together we thank the gods for bringing them together and ask that they always be guided."

Though she kept her gaze fixed on her groom, Lunafreya was overcome with a desire to glance surreptitiously around the room to see how this was received, only to realize that the minister was already doing so as if on her behalf. "If anyone can show just cause why these two may not lawfully be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The air hummed with sudden tension and the crowd grew restless, but no one spoke. No one _dared_. The faintest hint of a satisfied smile touched Ardyn's lips, but Lunafreya could not return it, and let out a silent breath she had not realized she had been holding. A part of her had hoped, however foolishly, that someone might save her, but even Ravus did not venture any comments.

The proceedings had only paused for a moment, but it felt as though the silence had endured for a full day before the minister spoke again. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

Ravus rose, somewhat more abruptly than might be expected during such a delicate ceremony. "I do," he said, approaching, and—using his magitek arm, perhaps to avoid coming in any real contact with his imminent brother-in-law—rested Lunafreya's right hand atop Ardyn's. Though the impulse to heal flashed through her body, she smothered the Oracle's abilities before the air around them could so much as glow. After so much practice at being the first to touch him, she had become accustomed to suppressing that part of herself, as she would need to suppress much more in days to come.

With a blessing secured, however reluctantly, Lunafreya and Ardyn stepped forward, hand in hand. "I congratulate you on the journey of your lives," said the minister, continuing the arrangement-exclusive speech Lunafreya had already heard so often in rehearsal, "and on the strength and courage it has taken for each of you to make your way to this place. Though your path is yours alone to choose, and none may intrude, it is the will of the Six that in one another's care, you find within yourselves a greater sense of who you are meant to be."

The minister glanced between them in Lunafreya's peripheral vision. "You are called to see the good in each other, to accept one another for who you are and who you shall be, that you might be healed and made strong." A strange expression flitted across Ardyn's face, but it was gone in an instant. "In this way, your own highest purpose shall be accomplished in assisting one another. May you find eternal happiness in the connection you share." Preparing six candles, the minister finally added, "You may kneel and recite the Twenty-Four Affirmations, that I may invoke the Blessings of the Six."

Obediently, Ardyn and Lunafreya both knelt, the former's movements lither than she anticipated. They had not done this much during their practicing, Ardyn claiming that he was too old to do such things too often, and that he ought to save his strength for the day itself. Lunafreya had suspected him to be making excuses, but nonetheless found herself surprised.

There was little time to dwell on the matter, however, as tradition dictated that the groom speak first. "I will strive with thee to better understand ourselves, our star, and the Six. I will honor each promise I make to thee, in word and deed. I will give thee no reason to doubt my honesty. I will respect thine individuality and independence from me."

Lunafreya had heard those words before, many times, during their rehearsals. But this time, Ardyn spoke convincingly enough that had Lunafreya not already understood that his heart was full of deceit, she might even have believed him. She took a breath before repeating his words, making an effort to project enough to be heard as well as to match his own confidence.

"The Archaean grant thee his stalwart longevity," intoned the minister, lighting the first candle.

"I will listen to thee and learn from thee, and teach thee what I can," said Ardyn, and this time, he sounded more sincere. "I will trust in thine integrity and have faith in thy faithfulness. I will serve thy needs and make mine clear to thee. I will shelter and nurture thy body with my own." As he said the last affirmation, his thumb brushed Lunafreya's skin. She almost jumped at the unexpected movement, but managed to repeat his words without stumbling.

The minister lit the second candle. "The Fulgurian grant thee his wisdom and clearest foresight."

"I will cultivate thy fulfillment and growth as well as mine," said Ardyn. "I will share with thee all life's pleasure and pain. I will stand by thee in the face of all misfortune and adversity. I will ease thy suffering and assuage thy fears in times of distress." That much was an even emptier promise than most; Ardyn was the _cause_ of her fear and distress. But Lunafreya dutifully repeated the words, memories of Noctis sneaking unbidden into her mind and coloring her speech. (It was better than allowing anyone else to discern the lies she had been forced to tell.)

"The Infernian grant thee his passion to carry thee through the long night." Another flame sprang into existence, somewhat more violently than the others, and Lunafreya thought a quick and instinctive prayer to Ifrit.

"I will comfort thee in sickness and console thee in grief," said Ardyn, and Lunafreya felt his eyes lingering on her expression, but could not fully meet them. He knew full well that he was the cause of her misery. "I will support thee unconditionally, and accept thine unconditional support. I will encourage thee in attaining thine ambitions, worldly and spiritual. I will celebrate thy triumphs and mourn thy losses as my own."

Again lightening her heavy heart with thoughts of a different groom, Lunafreya repeated the words, resisting the urge to close her eyes. She wished she could imagine Noctis here instead, but his hands felt too different for her imagination to substitute him. And she could not afford to distract herself too badly, anyway, as she had to recall her lines.

"The Hydraean grant thee her constancy and changefulness alike." The minister lit another candle.

"I will forgive those sins which can be forgiven, and offer absolution," said Ardyn, and his voice sounded a hair away from scornful for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "I will take thy flaws with thy strengths, and endeavor to temper them. I will work alongside thee with gladsome heart to create and shape our future. I will live with thee through the best and worst of whatever time may bring us."

Feeling hollow inside, far from herself, Lunafreya repeated the words. Perhaps it was better to release all memory of Noctis, now all the more unattainable, and think of herself as in a play. 'Bride' was simply a role she had been assigned, and nothing more. The identity of her husband, played by another actor, was entirely irrelevant.

"The Glacian grant thee her kindness and soften thy days." As the minister lit the penultimate candle, Lunafreya reminded herself to breathe, thinking of Shiva and recalling the comforting chill of her presence. Almost there.

"I will care for thee and cherish thee through every alteration," said Ardyn, in a strange tone of voice that Lunafreya could not immediately identify, as though he too had recalled someone else. "I will remain steadfastly by thy side for all the years to come. I will protect and defend thee from the darkness. I will walk with thee into the light." By the time he finished, the barest hint of some kind of tension had surfaced in his tone; it was almost sardonic. Whatever memory he might have thought of, it was far bitterer than it was sweet.

Taking comfort in the knowledge that this was the last of the Affirmations, and that even Ardyn was not so great an actor as to maintain an even tone through every vow, Lunafreya repeated the last of them and suppressed a sigh of relief as she finished it. She could only hope that her eagerness to be done with so many promises, half of which neither one of them intended to keep, came across as exuberance.

"The Draconian grant thee his responsibility to thyselves and others," said the minister, putting words to Lunafreya's inescapable duty, and lit the final candle.

As Ardyn and Lunafreya rose together, the minister took from the altar two plain but beautiful golden rings. "As a ceaseless reminder of this hour, and of the promise you have made to each other, these rings also speak of the oneness you shall experience as husband and wife," said the minister, approaching. "These circles of precious metal have neither beginning nor end, while gold is so incorruptible that it cannot be tarnished by use or time. So may this union, at this time solemnized, be incorruptible in its purity and more enduring than time itself."

Once the minister gave Ardyn the first ring, he placed it upon Lunafreya's left ring finger, speaking in a low voice that nonetheless carried through the chamber. "I give you my hand. I give you my heart. I give you myself. With all that I am and all that I have, I honor you. And with these words, and all the words of my soul, I marry you and bind my life to yours." He released her. "Thereto I plight thee my troth."

Lunafreya accepted the second ring from the minister, fingers shaking so that she was afraid she might drop it, but she held on. "I give you my hand," she said softly, her voice more tremulous now than it had ever been during the Affirmations, and had to make an effort to speak up. "I give you my heart. I give you myself. With all that I am and all that I have, I honor you. And with these words, and all the words of my soul, I marry you and bind my life to yours." Lunafreya looked Ardyn in the eye with as much determination as she could muster. "Thereto I plight thee my troth."

The minister spoke once more. "Let these rings, fit tokens of that which is unending, continue to be to you both a symbol of the value, the purity, and the constancy of true commitment, and the seal of the vows in which you have both pledged your most solemn and sacred honor." He bowed his head, and Ardyn and Lunafreya inclined their heads alongside the rest of those assembled, but did not quite remove their eyes from one another. "Let us pray.

"Eternal Hexatheon, creators and preservers of all life, authors of salvation, and givers of all grace: look with favor upon the world you have made, and especially upon this man and this woman, whom you make one being in holy matrimony. Bless them in their work and in their companionship; in their sleeping and in their waking; in their joys and in their sorrows; in their life and in their death. Grant that they may keep the promises they have made, and may hereafter live according to your laws.

"So mote it be," said the minister and congregation together.

"Those whom the Six have joined together, let no one put asunder," continued the minister. "Forasmuch as Ardyn Izunia and Lunafreya Nox Fleuret have consented together in holy wedlock, and have pledged the same before the gods and this company of witnesses with the exchanging of words and of rings, I therefore pronounce them man and wife." He looked to Ardyn—somewhat dubiously, Lunafreya thought, though his wariness offered her little comfort. "You may kiss your bride."

Lunafreya braced herself, moistening her lips out of sheer nervousness, and Ardyn cupped her chin in a few fingers to tilt her face up towards his. Unable to meet his searching gaze, she closed her eyes, and a moment after she felt his warm breath, his lips met hers.

The kiss was brief, light, and chaste in the moment before Ardyn withdrew, but Lunafreya's heart ached in anticipation of how much more he would take before long. Until now, she had not had the luxury of fretting over her _personal_ condition, having first been preoccupied with Lucis and then with the ceremony. But now, she remembered quite vividly that after every wedding came a wedding night, and narrowly resisted the urge to shudder.

The minister raised his hands, the music beginning anew, triumphant in a way Lunafreya doubted she would ever feel again. If there had been any sound before that, her heartbeat had masked it. "With this covenant, the treaty between the great nations of Niflheim and Tenebrae is complete. May this peace be everlasting!"

* * *

Lunafreya did not feel that she could spend another moment indoors or she might faint, but she only had to hold on a little longer before they ducked under the garlands of flowers and moved outside.

They did not speak as they took the gondola to the outdoor square where they were to hold the reception. Lunafreya had to admit she was surprised, having expected Ardyn to goad her at his earliest convenience. Instead, he simply looked at her with that same expression she had seen earlier, and she looked directly back at him. It was the closest Lunafreya felt she had come to seeing anything genuine on his features, but the ride was short enough that she could not guess his thoughts.

She never anticipated that she would have wanted to spend more time alone with Ardyn, but at least his countenance kept her mind occupied. Once they disembarked and it was Ardyn's turn to be in charge of trivialities, Lunafreya had little else to consider but the fact that she had _married_ Ardyn Izunia, that the empire now considered her his property. She had done her best to hide it from herself until now, but she could not help the sense of cold fear that settled in the pit of her stomach upon considering it.

Only once the musicians and more guests had re-assembled, and it came to their inaugural waltz, did Lunafreya snap more fully out of her increasingly darker thoughts.

Ravus ought to have led her first dance before handing her off, but he had flatly refused. He had stated that he preferred not to have to give her to Ardyn more than once, but Lunafreya suspected that it was also because he did not enjoy having an audience when he danced. At any rate, Ardyn was not a great lead, even considering their few lessons, but he was adequate for the purposes of proving their bond. Though their movements were at times clumsy, and Ardyn fell off-rhythm once or twice, neither of them misstepped, and they thoroughly earned their applause.

Over the course of what seemed an interminably long reception, Lunafreya occupied herself by speaking with various officials from Niflheim, Accordo, and Tenebrae, whose names, stations, and backgrounds all blurred into one another before long. For the first time, she understood why some guests overindulged in champagne, but could hardly afford to bring shame upon herself, so did not dare touch it.

Emperor Aldercapt was too busy to attend, and Lady Sylva of course remained in Fenestala Manor, but they had both sent gifts and messages. For His Imperial Majesty's part, his note of congratulations was generic, but accompanied a simple but stunningly beautiful circlet of braided silver studded with what looked to be topaz of various colors. It gave Lunafreya the feeling of something ancient that ought to have gone to a female descendant of his own, but if he was offering it to her, he must not have had one. She would have donned it immediately if not for fear of mussing her immaculately arranged hair.

As for Lady Sylva, she wrote a full page pouring out her heart in praise of her daughter, complete with postscript explaining that she had sent the Trident to Lunafreya's room directly to avoid its being touched by any mortal hands. Her other gifts were things Lunafreya remembered from the manor: a set of fine china painted with lilacs; a few select pieces of her mother's jewelry; a silver letter-opener engraved with roses (a keepsake from a father she had never known).

All other presents mattered little to Lunafreya, sentiment being much more valuable in her estimation than money, though she did appreciate that so many people had thought of her. Privately, she knew that she would donate the majority of her gifts to charity—if not because of their redundancy with items she already had, then because these people clearly knew her station better than her taste. Perhaps it was because Lunafreya was in a decidedly uncharitable mood, but she half debated throwing a particularly terrible tea set straight into the Celluna Cascades. Even so, she offered her thanks to the pompous imperial nobleman who had gifted it, as he had gone to the trouble of commissioning it himself.

Unfortunately, social situations had a habit of spiraling beyond Lunafreya's control, and she was trapped in conversation with him far past what she intended. Thankfully, her brother came to rescue her before long. "Sister," said Ravus, bowing more formally than necessary, and Lunafreya turned all too gladly from the nobleman. "Please do me the honor of dancing with me."

Lunafreya allowed her brother to lead her onto the floor, following the waltz he led in comfortable silence. Ravus had always been far better at dancing than he gave himself credit for, still capable of leading spins even with his magitek arm. Much had changed, both between them and around them, but for the moment, she felt like a girl again in a less frightening way, still learning to dance with her brother. It was only that this time, she had improved enough to match him.

"You know I love you," said Ravus suddenly, when the song was almost over. "Nothing and no one can change that."

Lunafreya blinked up at him, almost misstepping in her surprise. It was distinctly unlike him to be so open about his affection. "I love you too, Ravus," she said, squeezing his human shoulder gently, afraid to ask why he had said so. It sounded almost like a farewell; all the more so as the music ended. Rather than respond to the question he must have sensed, he guided her back off the floor again as though he had said nothing at all, resting his hand on her upper back only briefly before taking his leave to speak with someone else.

For a time, Lunafreya simply wandered around the reception, glad of the open air to make her feel even the slightest bit less trapped. It was good to see others enjoying themselves, especially as the reception was open to far more people than the ceremony had been. Several of the Accordan passersby, though congratulatory, seemed much more understanding of her situation than she anticipated, and offered their veiled sympathies.

Someone drew Lunafreya back onto the dance floor and out of her trance. Turning to see who would dare, all thought of reproach vanished, and she gasped.

 _Noctis_.


	9. Allowance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya reunites with her ex-fiancé and survives her wedding night.

Lunafreya froze, uncomprehending. Though Noctis tugged at her hand, clearly not a figment of her imagination, she could not follow him onto the floor. "Noctis," was all she could say at first, her voice tremulous, and their eyes met. His were the same dark blue as ever, but dull, veiled, swirling with emotions she was too flustered to understand. "What are you doing here?"

"You invited me," said Noctis, but his voice was unbearably cold and dry. Lunafreya shivered in a sudden chill that was not from the ocean breeze, trying to reconcile the Noctis she once knew with the man standing before her. This tone did not suit him, and she could not help but think that it was her fault he had adopted it. "Did you forget?"

Lunafreya shook her head. "I invited you because I thought that Niflheim would stay its hand, and that you would attend as an ally in good faith," she said, trying to keep her tone matter-of-fact (with no success at all). "But you know full well that the treaty failed, and Lucis has fallen. You'll be in danger for as long as you stay here!"

"I'm in danger no matter _where_ I go, thanks to the empire," retorted Noctis, narrowing his eyes. "And besides, I could never miss your wedding. Where's the lucky groom?" He looked around, but kept half an eye on Lunafreya. It was her reaction, far more than Ardyn's whereabouts, that he sought.

Lunafreya had never been afraid of Noctis before, but this recklessness boded ill. Prior to their last conversation over the phone, she had thought it unlike him to lose his temper so easily, but perhaps the situation had changed him more than she anticipated. "I—I don't know," stammered Lunafreya, heart racing all the faster at the idea that the two of them should meet. It would truly be the end of Lucis if its prince was apprehended in enemy territory. "You shouldn't be here, Noctis—!"

"But I am," interrupted Noctis, his grip on Lunafreya's wrist tightening. It wasn't enough to hurt; he could never hurt her more than she deserved. Still, it was more than enough for her to feel the strength of his urging. "So you might as well dance with me."

Lunafreya searched Noctis's eyes for any sign of their shared past, more and more desperate, but found only steel and sorrow. "You… never liked dancing." It was a ridiculous thing to say in such a situation, but those were the only words that rose to her mouth. Her voice sounded distant to her own ears, as though her heart spoke to his, pleading in vain for him to remember the warmer feelings they once had shared.

Noctis's heart, however, did not respond so directly. "And you never liked the Niffs, but here we are." As he pulled Lunafreya the rest of the way onto the dance floor, she did not have the strength to resist. "How does it feel, marrying a murderer?"

"Please, Noctis," murmured Lunafreya, her voice barely audible over the music. It was a lively waltz, meant to be danced with immaculate precision, but their steps were as awkward and mismatched as the sentiments they tried to exchange. "Blame me if you must, but know that I grieve for Lucis. You must believe—"

"What do _you_ know about grief?" interrupted Noctis, his voice shaking, and almost lost his footing. Catching himself, he whirled Lunafreya around violently to make his stumble look intentional. "The empire killed my father and destroyed Insomnia, and where were you? Trying on your dress? Practicing your vows?"

Lunafreya's blood ran cold at the knowledge that Ardyn had been telling the truth after all, that King Regis had perished in the invasion, and she could not meet Noctis's piercing eyes for long. She was certain that she would cry if she did, and that was not something she could afford in the moment, ill equipped to disguise her tears as happy ones. "Noctis, I…"

"Your _husband_ ignored the terms of your treaty to ruin ours," hissed Noctis. "And you didn't even bother calling off the wedding."

Lunafreya dropped her gaze, unable to withstand such searing scorn. "The terms of Tenebrae's treaty stated only that Niflheim would extend an offer of peace to Lucis, not that it must be accepted," she said, doing her best to keep her voice low but still audible to Noctis. "I am certain that your father was not to blame for the fall of Insomnia, but I can prove nothing. Until that changes, I must stand by my word."

"More than the Niffs ever did," scoffed Noctis. "And you're one of _them_ now."

"Noctis," said Lunafreya softly, finally daring to look him full in the face, repressing her instinctive tears. There was one question, more than anything else, she wished to ask. It would be easy for Noctis to leave her alone, to hate her from a distance and devote himself to what remained of his country. Even if losing King Regis had changed him so radically, she could not believe him capable of abandoning his people for the sake of revenge. "If you despise me so, then why are you here?"

As Lunafreya spoke, the song ended—abruptly, it seemed—and they came to a breathless halt. Though they searched each other's expressions, they did not quite meet each other's eyes, and Lunafreya suspected they were not truly seeing one another. Noctis stared at her through a filter of grief and rage, and she gazed back at him through a haze of fear and regret.

Soft, slow applause from a single pair of hands brought Lunafreya back to herself, and she looked around to find Ardyn approaching. "Marvelously danced despite your clumsy lead, my dear," he said, and Noctis's fingers twitched against Lunafreya's waist a moment before he withdrew them and stepped back. "This must be your former fiancé."

"Y-yes," said Lunafreya, feeling somewhat faint as she glanced uncertainly between the two of them. What now?

"Allow me to introduce myself," said Ardyn, extending his hand, and Noctis took it in his own with visible reluctance and dislike. "Ardyn Izunia, at your service. A pleasure."

They shook hands once, firmly, and let go, though it looked as though Noctis had to fight to extricate his hand from Ardyn's. "Noctis _Lucis_ Caelum," he said, his emphasis subtle but resentful. "Pleasure's all yours."

Ardyn tilted his head. "I do hope you didn't come all this way just to berate my wife over her choice of husband, Highness," he said, a smile playing about his lips, and Noctis scowled at the use of his now meaningless title. "Risking life and limb just to give her a piece of your mind? And slipping away from your friends to do it, too." He shook his head, tutting at him. "Tsk, tsk."

Noctis stiffened. "You've seen them?" At his confirmation of their presence here, Lunafreya couldn't help but hope that Noctis had not truly fallen prey to such misguided vengeance. If his friends had survived the fall of Insomnia and remained at his side, they would never allow him to stray so far from his destined path. Noctis was angry, but anger could be soothed and healed, unlike blind and stubborn vindictiveness.

"It seems they've been looking for you," said Ardyn idly, and Lunafreya came back to herself as she felt her heart sink once more. Even if Noctis's friends were here, the fact that Ardyn had found them did not bode well. "They're worried sick that you might get yourself into trouble. Which you seem to have your heart set on, from the looks of things." His smile widened. "Now, be a good boy and run along, won't you? For _their_ sakes, if not yours."

Even as he spoke, a voice called out from a short distance away. "Noct!" exclaimed Prompto, charging out of the crowd and inadvertently interrupting. "There you are! I mean," he added, stopping short, and took in Lunafreya and Ardyn with wide eyes. "Congratulations, Lu— _Lady_ Lunafreya. And… you." His voice lost what little warmth it had, and his expression took a turn for the uneasy. Almost afraid.

Ardyn looked at Prompto coolly, though Lunafreya caught a spark of curiosity in his eyes. "Why, thank you," he said, inclining his head in gratitude, or perhaps in a greeting. "I don't think I caught your name?"

Noctis rested a hand on Prompto's shoulder. "It doesn't matter," he said, in a tone that could only be described as protective. They were as wary of Ardyn as Lunafreya was, only they could not see—and she could not tell them—that she felt the same. "Let's go."

Prompto nodded, and the two of them turned away, but Ardyn cleared his throat pointedly. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Don't think so," said Noctis, glancing coldly over his shoulder.

"Oh, but I think you are," said Ardyn, looking sideways at Lunafreya, and she struggled against her urge to shudder. "Why don't you thank Lunafreya for sparing your life?"

There was a brief hesitation before Prompto turned around, his movements as tentative as his tone: "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing," said Ardyn airily, and Lunafreya chanced a look up at him to see his eyes fixed on Noctis's back rather than Prompto's face. "But that much is entirely thanks to Lunafreya. If it weren't for my lady wife, you see, you'd never be able to leave this gathering in one piece."

At this, Noctis finally turned around, and though he addressed Ardyn, his stare burned into Lunafreya. She could not meet his eyes, hoping that her downcast gaze might convey to Noctis that this was not as much her choice as he supposed, but his tone was still venomous as he spoke. "If it weren't for _her_ , I might be standing in your shoes right now."

Ardyn chuckled, stepping forward, and Lunafreya jumped as his hand came to rest on her waist. "Oh, I doubt they'd fit you," he said, and Noctis's eyes narrowed in dislike, though Prompto's remained wide and apprehensive. "Farewell, Highness. I'm sure we'll meet again."

"Goodbye," whispered Lunafreya, but by the time the word left her lips, both Noctis and Prompto—rekindling too late her half-forgotten hope of rescue—had already disappeared.

* * *

It took until sunset for the number of guests to finally wane, but even the end of the reception brought Lunafreya no comfort. She knew, all too well, what must come next.

As the celebration went on without any further interruptions, she gradually released her grief for King Regis as well as fear for Noctis (now absent and without any sign of returning), and instead grew more and more preoccupied with the wedding night to come. However, for all her tumultuous thoughts, she arrived at no conclusions, unable to conceive of any strategies to delay the inevitable. Every imagined refusal in her head was futile, every thought of defending herself a ludicrous fantasy. Who knew how Ardyn might behave behind closed doors?

Such a question asked of Lunafreya was useless: it seemed that she would discover the answer herself before long.

As Ardyn began escorting her away, his touch gentle yet insistent, she found—in a stark contrast from her previous state of mind—that she could scarcely think at all. But then, perhaps that much would prove a blessing soon.

Lunafreya's mind was hazy the whole way to the Leville, but she was jolted back to reality as they reached the building: Ardyn swept her effortlessly off her feet, ignoring her faint cry of surprise. "This may not be our home, my lady," he said, carrying Lunafreya through the doors of the hotel as though she weighed nothing at all, "but as we will both be staying here for some time, I think this is threshold enough to carry you over for now."

Though Lunafreya's lips parted slightly, no words came out, partly out of astonishment that Ardyn had already begun carrying her up the stairs rather than setting her down immediately. With every step nearer to their room—the royal suite, separate from her own quarters—the blush mounted in her cheeks. As they drew closer, a porter opened the door to their chambers, let them pass, and shut it behind them with an expression Lunafreya could not quite see. (It might as easily have been a grimace as a knowing smile.)

Oppressive silence hummed in Lunafreya's ears as Ardyn set her softly down, and she tried to negotiate with her racing heart, to no avail. At the least, she braced herself for a kiss, as Ardyn gazed down at her. His countenance was as unreadable as it had been after the ceremony, not the mask he had donned again for the reception that followed. But, though he brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder, he did not lean down.

Instead, he turned and paced deliberately toward the bed.

Realizing that she had stopped breathing at some point, Lunafreya inhaled and exhaled slowly before curling her shaking hands into fists and following. She came to a halt before him, but again he did not make any advances, instead seating himself and gazing up at her. His expression was almost blank, but his head was tilted in something like curiosity, and his lips were just pursed enough to indicate that he was contemplating something. What that might have been, Lunafreya could not begin to fathom.

There was a long and somewhat awkward pause. Ardyn was a man of some years, however many that may have been, and Lunafreya was quite clearly inexperienced in the world. But it seemed that, judging by his almost unnerving stillness, she would have to make the first move. Trying to strategize, Lunafreya took another breath she hoped was inaudible. A kiss should be good enough to start with; that, at least, she knew how to do.

Sinking gingerly onto the bed beside Ardyn before she could second-guess herself, Lunafreya reached toward his cheek, moving tentatively forward… but, to her astonishment, Ardyn leaned away from her with a shake of his head. "No need to force yourself, my dear."

That brought Lunafreya up short. Frowning, she opened her mouth, but realized as she did so that she had no idea what to say. She knew little of marriage as a whole, but understood the implications of a wedding night and the concept of proving a political bond by uniting a bloodline. Evidently, Ardyn had somewhat different ideas. Given what little Lunafreya knew of his personality, she supposed she shouldn't be so shocked that he would subvert convention in such a way, but he had managed to catch her entirely off-guard.

"Are you so surprised?" asked Ardyn, tossing Lunafreya a lopsided smile. It seemed he could read her face a great deal more easily than she could read his. "The kind of companionship they call intimacy means precious little to me, under the circumstances. I have no intention of pursuing it now." His smile widened, a little more sinister now. "I'm sure you'll come to hate me soon enough as it is."

" _Hate_ you?" Lunafreya's blood ran cold. She had done her best to be civil, even upon the fall of Insomnia, but perhaps he could see straight through her attempts at diplomacy. Having been raised to assume a position that necessitated impartiality, she did not use the word 'hate' lightly, but where Ardyn was concerned, she was far from gaining the understanding required for warmer feelings than distrust and dislike.

"Come now, Lunafreya," said Ardyn, eyeing her with peculiar amusement. "Ours is a marriage of convenience, and between you and me, there is little need to pretend otherwise. In the eyes of the empire, a nation you despise, the Oracle is nothing more than a precious commodity in its possession through symbolic union to its chancellor. That is all."

Ardyn spoke as though he, himself, was not of the empire, but this was not the time to debate semantics. Lunafreya took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. "And is that all I am to _you_?"

"Why, my lady," returned Ardyn, raising his eyebrows almost playfully. "Are you suggesting that you wish to be more?"

Lunafreya's instinct was flat-out denial, but she hesitated. "Our alliance may have come about through necessity, but it need not be completely devoid of emotion," she said, choosing her words very deliberately. Even negative emotion was still emotion, and was preferable in her estimation to complete apathy. "I would prefer this to be a true partnership, and that means we must work together willingly. Gladly, if possible."

Ardyn chuckled. "It is _not_ possible," he said, with an air of superiority Lunafreya did not like, despite agreeing with him. "We are diametrical opposites, you and I. An Oracle has no business consorting with daemons. Someone must always come out on top, so to speak, and I'm afraid I can't surrender so easily."

"Surrender?" echoed Lunafreya, frowning. The point of her sacrifice, as Ravus had so rightly called it, was to preserve peace between Tenebrae and Niflheim. Irrespective of her personal feelings about Ardyn, their connection itself should not be antagonistic. "Regardless of our backgrounds or conditions in life, our marriage is meant to herald a new beginning, for both our nations and ourselves. Do you trust me so little that you still view me as an enemy?"

Guarded but genuine surprise flickered momentarily across Ardyn's countenance, and he simply looked at Lunafreya for a long moment before letting out a light sigh. "My sincerest apologies for any offense I may have caused you. It was gauche of me to bring up politics on our wedding night."

Talk of the occasion reminded Lunafreya once more of how they had landed on so bleak a subject, and she met Ardyn's eyes with an effort. As reluctant as she was to steer the conversation back toward its beginning, she needed closure before she could be truly at ease. "I assume, in light of your earlier declarations, you have no plans of consummating our marriage."

Ardyn smiled thoughtfully. "Ah, it's so nice to be wanted," he said, leaning back on his hands. "But, marital status notwithstanding, we _are_ still practically strangers. I don't think either of us have earned the right to see each other so vulnerable just yet. And besides," he added, lowering his voice and leaning closer as if about to tell a secret, "I believe there are much better ways to get to know one another than sex."

Lunafreya almost flinched, and the corner of Ardyn's mouth twitched in a triumphant smile. "Does mentioning it aloud discomfit you, my lady?" he asked, his voice at once amused and dismissive, but it could not have been more obvious that he already knew the answer. That had been a test, and she had failed it. "You needn't worry. I told you before that I have no wish to press the matter, and I intend to stand by my word."

Relaxing slightly at such a faithfully delivered promise, Lunafreya let out a long exhalation. "Thank you, Ardyn. I am truly grateful."

Ardyn's eyes glimmered. "Staying out of your bridal bed is the least I can do for you, Lunafreya," he said, getting to his feet. "It may not always seem like it, but I assure you that patience _is_ my strong suit. I've spent more years waiting than you have even been alive." As he spoke, Lunafreya looked Ardyn up and down uncertainly. She longed to know what he could have been waiting for, but something more prominent did not add up. He spoke as though he were farther beyond her years than she could imagine, and misjudging his meaning might be embarrassing for more than just herself.

Though Ardyn must have seen her expression, he said nothing, and she had to restrain herself from fidgeting uncomfortably under his silent gaze. She may have done her best to prepare herself for almost anything tonight, but she had by no means prepared for _nothing_. "Am I meant to just… go to sleep, then?" asked Lunafreya finally.

The only response she received at first was a chuckle. "Shall I tell you a bedtime story?" asked Ardyn, getting to his feet again and moving in the direction of a chaise longue to seat himself there instead, picking up a book and holding it up. "I can think of several."

As usual, Lunafreya found herself entirely unable to tell whether Ardyn was joking, and gave him an uncertain half-smile. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't believe that will be necessary," she said, rising as well so that she could remove her shoes and begin working on the rest of her outfit. "Have my clothes been brought from my room?"

"They have indeed," said Ardyn, gesturing to another section of the room, and Lunafreya walked in his direction to find her suitcase waiting there. "Do let me know if you need help removing that," he added, and Lunafreya glanced back at him to find him eyeing her gown. "As I understand it, tailors like to make it very difficult for ladies such as yourself to dress and undress unassisted."

"I… thank you," was all Lunafreya could say, coloring slightly, as she retrieved a change of clothes. It had been a long enough day that, even having begun it with a bath, she felt like closing it with one as well (making a mental note to herself to get out of the gown on her own at all costs). But she felt that she needed to know where she would be sleeping, and that was entirely dependent on one thing: "Will you be staying in the bed, Ardyn?"

Ardyn blinked a few times. "Of course; it is certainly big enough for the both of us. But if it's any consolation," he continued before Lunafreya could be alarmed or disappointed, donning a pair of reading glasses, "I sleep very late, and fully clothed. And I rise early as well—enough so that I doubt you'll know I was ever there."

Lunafreya could not admit aloud that such things really were comforts, but the smile she gave was the slightest bit more sincere despite herself. Ardyn most certainly did not have to go to such lengths to reassure her, and this sort of kindness was reasonably close to the last thing she expected from him on their wedding night. "I am in your debt."

"Nonsense," said Ardyn, opening his book. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a collection of annotated legends related to the Cosmogony. Lunafreya almost found herself wanting to ask about it, but the conversation was very clearly at its close. "Make yourself at home, dear Lunafreya. You played your part very well today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note 8/13:** Since my last note re: a temporary delay, my household is now unexpectedly in the midst of preparing to move, so progress will likely be slowed down for much longer than I anticipated. I will do my best to get back to updating regularly as soon as possible, but I doubt there will be many more chapters until at least October. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, and would like to assure you that I have no plans of abandoning this story!


	10. An Oracle's Duties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya makes the most of her honeymoon.

Over the next day or so, much of Lunafreya's time was spent sifting through her gifts.

Other than the Trident, almost all of them were beautiful, but served no purpose. Tradition dictated that wedding gifts consisted mostly of things that would be useful in a new household, but Lunafreya could not imagine needing many of her own possessions in that way. Most of them would need to be given away in the coming months, perhaps as gifts to nobility—ensuring that they were _not_ the ones who gave them in the first place.

That said, there were some pieces that were less superfluous. An ornate comb, anonymously delivered, caught Lunafreya's eye, but Ardyn seemed wary of it. She could not refuse to hand it over, when he asked to see it, and was surprised at the deft way he handled it. He seemed to be looking for something, and evidently found it: the tiniest compartment containing some minuscule technological device.

"Intended to track your location," murmured Ardyn, tucking Lunafreya's hair behind her ear, and she struggled not to shiver. "Do try to be careful, my dear. Not all presents are truly _gifts_."

"So I see," murmured Lunafreya in reluctant agreement, struggling against irrational feelings of sorrow. It did not sit well with her that something so beautiful could be used in such a way. Still, she could not bring herself to throw it out entirely, keeping it as something of a reminder in the bedside-table drawer.

But, truth be told, Lunafreya scarcely had the time to think of it. Over the next few days, she had too much else to occupy her mind. For one thing, there were nightly balls, and other such gatherings of the most important officials of Niflheim and its territories. (How difficult it was to think of Tenebrae as nothing more than a _territory_.) Naturally, the imperial chancellor and the Oracle were both expected to attend the vast majority of them.

To that end, Lunafreya spent much of her time preparing herself physically and mentally, as that always took some hours longer than she would have liked. Still, she did her best to be gentle with herself, though it wasn't easy. Noctis's accusations reverberated constantly in her head, and more than once, she caught herself whispering belated apologies aloud in response.

Lunafreya's sole comfort was that Ardyn had been telling the truth. He was always gone by the time she awakened, and stayed that way for much of the day, doing gods knew what in his office in Altissia's government building. As a result, Lunafreya had the luxury of lowering her guard for some hours at a stretch, becoming herself again instead of her Oracle persona. At least, until the sun set, and she was expected at some social function.

For a time, Lunafreya still had Ravus to keep her company, but he returned to Tenebrae before long to be with Lady Sylva. To hear him tell it, their mother's health had been declining lately, but details were scarce. Even with access to Lucian technology, her mother had never trusted it; Ravus informed her that calling Fenestala Manor had not shed any light on the situation. It was partly so that he could ascertain what was going on and report back that he had left so suddenly today.

To relieve her resulting anxiety, Lunafreya had partaken of perhaps a little more champagne than usual at tonight's party. Not _too_ much, of course—just an extra glass over the course of the evening. From what Lunafreya could tell, even that much worked wonders, though it was also possible that she was feeling better simply because Ardyn had chosen to work overtime.

During a gap between conversations, a lady with brown hair in an elegant bun caught Lunafreya's eye. Or maybe it was her lovely red dress… or maybe it was the fact that this woman had not attended any of the previous gatherings. Lunafreya had a decent memory for faces, and she wasn't tipsy enough for that to have been impacted, yet she didn't recognize her.

Unexpectedly, the woman looked in Lunafreya's direction, and her train of thought derailed abruptly. Blushing, she turned away in a hurry. How could she have allowed herself to be caught staring like that? She had learned how rude it was back in her early childhood and had been reprimanded for it several times. Perhaps more champagne hadn't been such a great idea, after all.

It was too late; the woman was approaching. Lunafreya expected to be reprimanded, but instead, her tone was friendly as she said, "You must be Lady Lunafreya." Her tone was the closest to informal Lunafreya had heard in Altissia. "I'm Corvina, at your service." She extended her hand in a rather straightforward gesture.

Lunafreya blinked a few times, tentatively accepting Corvina's hand and shaking it once before releasing it. It would be rude to say she had never seen nor heard of her, but it seemed Corvina understood her expression, as she smiled. "Don't worry, you're not supposed to know me. I'm just Aranea's plus-one."

"Ah," said Lunafreya, relaxing slightly. That certainly explained things, and Corvina's breezy manners set her a little more at ease. Perhaps she did not find staring as offensive as many others here. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Corvina."

"Likewise," said Corvina, still smiling. Her expression seemed very open, at least compared to the others here, but her deep brown eyes moved quickly as she turned to look and gesture around the room. It almost gave Lunafreya the impression that she was scanning the area for danger. "How do you like these parties, milady?"

"They're very…" Lunafreya tried to find the right word. "Interesting."

"Are they?" asked Corvina, tilting her head, and looked at Lunafreya out the corner of her eye. "You'd know better than me. I've never actually been in the same room with this many important people before."

Lunafreya raised her eyebrows. "Really?" The question was instinctive; she couldn't say she was much surprised. In her experience, Corvina's down-to-earth manners and apparent honesty were unfortunately uncommon among the upper class. Maybe it was the champagne, but she felt that Corvina might prove an ally, beckoning her closer as if to tell a secret of her own. "You aren't missing very much at all."

Corvina laughed. "Yeah, it seems like this gets old pretty fast," she said, glancing around the room again. "I think the only names I actually remember are yours and Aranea's. I must've been introduced to a dozen people by now, but it just goes in one ear and out the other."

Lunafreya traced Corvina's gaze to find it fixed on Aranea, who was in a daring black dress few others could wear so well. "I've seen Com—Aranea at many of these, but she hasn't brought a plus-one yet," she said, remembering with difficulty to call her by her given name, as Aranea had requested. "How did you meet?"

Corvina sobered slightly. "To tell the truth, I just met her the other day, right here in Altissia." Lunafreya frowned; the guests here were of high enough status that some potentially sensitive information might be disclosed. Only their significant others ought to have been considered little enough of a liability to warrant plus-one status. "We hit it off, so I asked her to bring me along."

As little as Lunafreya wanted to mistrust a breath of fresh air like Corvina, she could not suppress her suspicion. "Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure you got my wedding gift," said Corvina, glancing at the door, and then at Lunafreya. Her expression was serious now, but earnestly so. "Take a turn around the garden with me?"

Lunafreya hesitated, but inclined her head in acceptance. Her instincts were not always reliable, and more easily clouded by emotion than most might guess, but she did not feel that Corvina was dangerous. Besides that, even the garden was not entirely empty, and was close enough to the main hall that those assembled would be able to hear her scream if worst came to worst.

They walked at a leisurely pace, but Lunafreya felt herself burning with anticipation she did not fully understand, or perhaps it was dread. It was difficult for her to tell whether Corvina would prove an ally or an enemy; she would have to wait until they arrived at their destination to discover which one. Perhaps this electric feeling was why some people enjoyed taking risks.

Fortunately, it did not take long for them to reach a place Corvina deemed isolated enough. "I'll get to the point," she said, stopping suddenly. "Did you receive a comb?"

Lunafreya's heart sank. "There was one, yes."

"I'm sorry about using such underhanded methods to try and get a hold of you," said Corvina, bowing her head, and Lunafreya frowned. An apology was reasonably close to the last thing she had expected to hear from whoever had given her that comb. "I should've known there'd be extra security, but it was the only way I could think of to track you down till Aranea came along."

"Is there some emergency?" asked Lunafreya, unable to think of any other reason why someone so apparently friendly might need to resort to such tactics. "Some afflicted that needs healing in secret?"

Corvina shook her head, lowering her voice still further. "I'm in touch with the prince and his friends."

At these words, Lunafreya's heart skipped a beat, and her body was seized by a violent fit of trembling that had little to do with the chilly breeze. There could be no doubt as to which prince she meant. "I see."

"Just let me know if you need to get a message to them, all right?"

"I…" Lunafreya took a breath. "Yes, of course I will."

Corvina tilted her head. "Is something wrong?"

Lunafreya shook her head. How could she explain that she and Noctis, known to be good friends and betrothed these twelve years, were no longer on the best of terms? "It's nothing."

"Come on now, Lady Lunafreya," said Corvina, hand hovering as if she meant to rest it on her shoulder, but she withdrew it immediately, her eyes full of concern. "I might be able to help."

"How could you?" asked Lunafreya, speaking more abruptly than she intended, and winced at her own tone. She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing, "I'm afraid that there is nothing that can be done. Noctis considers me a traitor. Our nations were allied, but I betrayed that alliance by marrying into the empire. I…"

Lunafreya's voice caught in her throat, and she could say no more. Her insistence that Niflheim offer Lucis a peace treaty may have led to the destruction of Insomnia and the death of King Regis. Had the imperial troops not been allowed to enter the Crown City, they may not have been able to destroy it so easily. At the very least, the damage could have been mitigated somewhat.

"But that's not your fault," said Corvina, looking alarmed. "I heard how close to total destruction Tenebrae came. You even asked the Niffs to offer peace to Lucis, but they made war instead." Her eyes searched Lunafreya's face. "Listen, milady, you don't _want_ this marriage, right?"

That was a dangerous question. Even in private, Lunafreya could ill afford to express any sentiment that might be considered treasonous. "I want Tenebrae to be as free as possible, and safe from the ravages of war," said Lunafreya, as coolly as she could. "To that end, I will marry whom I must. Even if such a man is Chancellor Izunia." She made an effort at a smile. "I am not being held captive, Corvina."

Corvina's warm eyes turned flinty. "Then you intend to play along as the chancellor's wife?" she demanded, her tone harsh, but Lunafreya felt that it was more desperation than anger that fueled her words. "To go along with his whims, mother his children, and carry on a legacy of oppression?"

Lunafreya hesitated. Obviously, none of those things were high on her priority list, but it did bring to mind that she and Ardyn had not yet discussed such things openly. "I am the Oracle before I am Chancellor Izunia's wife," she said, as mildly as she could. "Even if it brings me into conflict with the empire, I will fulfill my destined role, and guide the Chosen King along his path. My own comfort and even my safety is nothing to that of my people—do you understand?"

There was a long and uncomfortable silence, during which Corvina's scowl remained, but it lessened eventually, and she nodded. "And I guess those people are more than just His Highness," muttered Corvina, as though trying to convince herself. "Gotcha." She heaved a sigh, looking back up at Lunafreya, and gave a wan and sheepish smile. "The offer stands, if you change your mind."

"Thank you, Corvina," said Lunafreya, returning her smile hesitantly.

Corvina's lips parted as though she wanted to say something, but she closed them again and shook her head, going for her purse. Taking out a small notebook, she jotted something down quickly, ripping off the page. "If you ever need anything, just… borrow someone's phone and call me," she said, handing her number to Lunafreya. "I promise I'll be there."

* * *

Corvina's words weighed more heavily on Lunafreya than she anticipated.

Not only those about Noctis, either. More prominently, as she got home that evening and took her bath and changed into her nightgown, her statements about Lunafreya's duties as Ardyn's wife. Specifically, of all things, the phrase that stuck in her head was _mothering his children_. They had scarcely mentioned the future in any capacity since their marriage, and even then, it had only been an agreement to postpone the wedding night indefinitely.

"Ardyn," said Lunafreya, even as she made up her mind to ask, and stepped out of the bathroom still in the middle of braiding her hair. (Lunafreya hated bedhead regardless of whether Ardyn was there to see it, and that kept it under control overnight.) "May I speak with you a moment?"

Ardyn set down his book. "But of course."

Finishing her braid and letting it fall, Lunafreya took a deep breath. "What do you think of children?"

She expected Ardyn to be taken aback, to inquire why she had asked, but he just sighed, almost as if having been expecting the question. "I can think of very few things I hate more," he said, with utmost confidence, and Lunafreya pursed her lips. She couldn't say she was surprised, but she _was_ slightly disappointed. That was one less thing they had in common. "Are they especially important to you, Lunafreya?"

"I do like them," said Lunafreya, and then more tentatively, "I have thought of having my own since I was a child myself. The lineage of the Oracle must go on."

"There is always your brother to consider, although I do understand if you have concerns about his ability to find a wife," said Ardyn, so casually that it took a moment for Lunafreya to recognize the insult. "And in any case, you are Oracle to the Chosen King. If the prophecy is true, what need can there be for any more after you?"

Lunafreya let out a short breath. She ought to have expected that kind of resistance, this obstinate deflection of all her points. "If you do not share my wishes for the future, then you have only to say so," she said, crossing her arms. "And we can always revisit this at a later time. I was simply curious about your opinion on children, that's all."

"No; you are curious about whether I intend to father yours," said Ardyn dismissively, and Lunafreya fidgeted uncomfortably. When he said it like that, it was much more difficult for her to remember her desire to have children in the first place, or for her to be disheartened that Ardyn did not share it. "My medical history is long and extensive, and given my condition, I doubt whether I can _have_ any."

Ardyn did not sound disappointed in the slightest, and Lunafreya remembered his Starscourge all at once. As a disease whose cause and effects alike were shrouded in mystery to most, its effects on the human reproductive system had never been studied before. But it was certainly a plausible reason, and Lunafreya could think of no response. "I… see."

Chuckling, Ardyn returned his eyes to his book. "It was a valiant effort, my dear, but I'm afraid you're outmatched for now." His tone was patronizing enough to amplify Lunafreya's frustration with him tenfold, and she struggled against the urge to scowl at him. "Good night."

"Good night, Ardyn," said Lunafreya, feeling as annoyed and defeated as she always did after their conversations, and retreated to bed. Since she was making so little headway in her marriage, perhaps it was time to turn her attention back to more Oracular duties. If Ardyn was so insistent on keeping his distance, then establishing a covenant with Leviathan should take priority.

To that end, Lunafreya supposed she had better get to work.

* * *

Arranging a meeting with Madam Claustra took some days and more than just Corvina's assistance.

Granted, it had been Corvina who had put Lunafreya in contact with Weskham Armaugh—the proprietor of the world-class restaurant Maagho, which had catered the wedding—but that was where her involvement had ended. Truthfully, Lunafreya had her misgivings as to how well she would be received. Mr. Armaugh may have been a confidant of Madam Claustra, but he was also a friend of King Regis.

"Mr. Armaugh," greeted Lunafreya, stepping off the gondola at Maagho, and curtsied as he approached. "You have my sincerest gratitude for arranging this."

"My pleasure," said Mr. Armaugh, bowing. "Anything I can do to assist the Oracle, I will. But please, call me Weskham." He smiled, and Lunafreya searched his face for any hint of resentment, but found none. "Regis wrote to me about you a few times, saying he looked forward to the day you called him 'Father'. He was like a brother to me, so it follows that you need not use any such formalities with me, either."

At the memory of King Regis and his gentle kindness, Lunafreya's throat ached all over again. She, too, would have liked to call him 'Father' someday. Regret overwhelmed her so suddenly that the next words out of her mouth were, "I'm sorry."

Weskham just shook his head. "There may be some who blame you for the fall of Lucis, but Regis was no fool, and I like to think I'm not either." He offered his arm, and Lunafreya took it hesitantly. "You played the hand you were dealt very well, my lady. It isn't your fault Regis's hand was worse."

Lunafreya had to admit that she had never thought of it like that before, and it brought her some peace for the first time in what felt like a very long while. "Thank you, Weskham," she said, turning to look up at him as they walked along the pier deeper into the restaurant. "But please… call me Lunafreya." If he wished to use a familial metaphor, she was roughly equivalent to his niece.

"Certainly," said Weskham, guiding Lunafreya toward the only other occupied table in the restaurant. "But not during introductions."

A middle-aged woman with short blonde hair and sharp blue eyes got to her feet. This must be Madam Claustra. "Ah, so this is why you called me here," she said, looking at Lunafreya with some curiosity. "Your secrecy is forgiven, Weskham."

"May I present Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret," said Weskham, standing aside as he gestured to her. "Lunafreya, this is First Secretary Camelia Claustra."

Lunafreya curtsied. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Madam Claustra. I am honored."

"The honor is mine," said Claustra, inclining her head, and Weskham looked between the two of them before withdrawing to the bar. "I must apologize for failing to personally attend your wedding. Though I suspect that you would have done the same if it were possible." She gave a faint smile, which Lunafreya returned only tentatively, and sat back down again. "What can I do for the Oracle?"

Lunafreya seated herself across from Madam Claustra. "I wish to awaken the Hydraean."

Madam Claustra pursed her lips. "Getting straight to the point," she murmured, looking at Lunafreya carefully. "I like that. How do you propose to do it?"

"I will sing at the Altar of the Tidemother," said Lunafreya, recalling Lady Sylva's words—her assurance that she had all the tools she needed and that the Astrals could be awakened through song—and smothering another surge of worry for her mother. "When Leviathan awakes, I will forge a covenant with her. She must then impart her power to the Chosen King in accordance with our agreement, for the sake of preserving the light."

"And if she refuses?" asked Madam Claustra, leaning slightly forward with clasped hands. "Those who read the Cosmogony know that the Hydraean is benevolent only in her sleep. She is not known for her charity when awakened."

"It is true that I cannot guarantee Altissia's safety," said Lunafreya, bowing her head, remembering too vividly the reports of Insomnia's destruction. "I do not intend to let the covenant fail, but the structural damage may be severe even if it succeeds. It would be wisest to evacuate the citizens by the beginning of the ritual."

Madam Claustra raised her eyebrows. "And risk the empire's suspicion?"

"It is a choice between the empire's suspicion and total destruction," said Lunafreya firmly. "I have already failed Lucis. I cannot be the reason behind Accordo's downfall as well." She sighed, trying to think of a compromise. "If you need a reason for the citizens of Altissia to gather out of doors, I can make a speech before I go to the altar. It should be easier to move them after that, particularly as the empire's primary focus will be on me."

"Then _you_ assume the risk."

"Precisely," said Lunafreya. "Even among the empire, many are faithful to the Hexatheon. I doubt many will dare to stop me, and I am not as helpless as I seem." Lunafreya was not nearly as confident in this as she made sure to appear, but she could not afford to show even the slightest hesitation in her plan if she wanted it to be accepted.

Madam Claustra nodded slowly. "I see." She paused, seemingly deliberating over what to say, or perhaps how to say it. "Now, you said the purpose of the Oracle's covenants is to aid the Chosen King, correct?"

All air seemed to vanish from Lunafreya's lungs. "Yes."

"Word has reached my ears that Prince Noctis of Lucis, and a few of his closest friends, have taken shelter somewhere in the city." Madam Claustra searched Lunafreya's expression; she could only hope that she was able to conceal her fears. "Will you be working together?"

"Noctis and I have not been in contact." Not about this.

"Then…" Madam Claustra frowned. "Have you any guarantee His Highness will cooperate?"

"I must confess that I do not," said Lunafreya, meeting Madam Claustra's gaze with some difficulty. "But Noctis is his father's son. If his heart is unchanged from what I knew, then I am certain he will accept this responsibility."

Madam Claustra nodded thoughtfully. "I presume that, as a territory of the empire, Tenebrae no longer has any power to aid Accordo directly." Lunafreya bowed her head in an affirmative; it was not really a question. "Fortunately, the crown prince of Lucis is alive and in opposition to Niflheim. Even if he cannot provide much aid in the moment, his promises will be valuable."

"I'm sure Noctis will want to help Accordo however he can." At least, Lunafreya wanted more than anything to believe that Noctis was not the kind of man who would let resentment toward her cloud his view of so many others.

"I certainly hope so," said Madam Claustra, and there was a long silence as she seemed to be weighing something before she rose. "Very well. I will permit you to establish a covenant with the Hydraean under one condition."

"And that is?"

Madam Claustra leaned on the table, hands planted firmly. "You _must_ work with Prince Noctis to do so." Lunafreya's throat tightened, but she did not allow herself to show weakness by swallowing. "I will not allow a lack of communication to impact the well-being of my citizens. You must awaken and confront the Hydraean together, or not at all."

As anxious as Lunafreya was about trying to reach any kind of agreement with Noctis, she could not possibly refuse. It was crucial that she establish covenants with each of the Astrals so that the Chosen King had their full support, and it was undeniably convenient that Noctis would be able to receive Leviathan's blessing so soon after she would secure it.

"Understood," said Lunafreya, getting to her feet as well, and looked Madam Claustra in the eye. "I will secure a meeting with Noctis as soon as may be, and discuss the matter with him."

"Good," said Madam Claustra, a faint smile touching her lips. "After you have met, send Prince Noctis to my office so he can finalize the negotiations. And please be sure that he conveys the appointed date—the more notice you can give me, the better."

"Very well." Lunafreya had to admit that Madam Claustra's requests were entirely reasonable. Generous, even. One might consider it her duty to assist the Oracle and the Chosen King, but the prophecy had so little bearing on most ordinary lives that Lunafreya had expected Madam Claustra to regard her as the wife of a prominent enemy and Noctis as only the prince of a fallen nation. "Thank you for your kindness. I will do all I can to ensure the safety of Altissia and its people."

"In that case, I wish you all the best," said Madam Claustra, dipping her head. "Until we meet again, Lady Lunafreya."

As Madam Claustra walked away, Lunafreya watched her go, taking a deep breath. Only after the gondola departed did she wander over to the bar where Weskham stood. "Might I borrow your cell phone?"

To her surprise, Weskham unlocked his phone and handed it over with no questions asked. Lunafreya dialed Corvina's number, again needing to backtrack when her fingers automatically began inputting Noctis's. She entertained the thought of calling him for a fleeting moment, just to hear his voice when he was not angry, but decided against it. She could ill afford to give out a stranger's number, even if he _had_ been close to King Regis.

"Hello?"

"Corvina," said Lunafreya. Under ordinary circumstances, she might have moved farther away from Weskham, but he had already proven a valuable ally by setting up that meeting with Madam Claustra. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah," said Corvina, her voice a little uneven, like she was walking briskly. "Or, well, I am now. What do you need?"

Lunafreya swallowed. She knew what she had to request, but that didn't make it any easier to say it aloud, once again reliving the confrontation at her wedding. "Can you… arrange a meeting with Noctis?"

"Sure thing," said Corvina, her voice getting momentarily farther away, as though she were checking something. "This is… Weskham's number, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then I'll send him the details, and he'll forward them to you."

That was in line with how their last conversation had ended—Corvina didn't seem versed in goodbyes, as though her conversations were just status reports—but Lunafreya realized that she had forgotten something. "Ah, Corvina?"

"Yeah?"

"If you could, I'd like you to keep it from Noctis that he will be meeting me," said Lunafreya, fidgeting with her dress. "Please direct him to Maagho on some other business. After hours." She glanced at Weskham for permission. He nodded without hesitation, and Lunafreya gave him a grateful smile.

"Will do," said Corvina, sounding somewhere between surprised and curious, but did not ask any further questions. Instead, she simply hung up.

Lunafreya handed back Weskham's phone, remembering to breathe. "Thank you."

"But of course," said Weskham. "Can I interest you in a drink on the house?"

Even the offer was enough to make Lunafreya smile, and although she had been planning to return to the Leville before Ardyn, she found herself glancing at the menu anyway. Doubtless Weskham meant something alcoholic, but… she'd had more than enough complimentary champagne lately. "Some raspberry iced tea, if it isn't too much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," said Weskham, already moving to prepare some. After mixing the raspberry juice into the iced tea, he garnished it with a slice of lemon and slid the glass across the counter with a smile. "Good luck, Lunafreya. Always remember that no matter how powerful your enemies are, you will always have more friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note 10/19:** Still in the process of moving (and finding a place _to_ move…), so chapters will likely continue being irregular—such as this one, for instance, which isn't even close to a Friday. I'll do my best not to go on another unannounced hiatus for months at a time, but I'm unfortunately not in much of a position to make promises at the moment.


	11. Between Two Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya and Noctis have a talk about fate.

Lunafreya had never been so nervous.

Even before her wedding, at least it had been primarily her own fate that had hung in the balance. Now, her choices would impact Noctis directly as well. She longed to call forth Gentiana and hear some reassurance, but didn't want to disturb Maagho's tranquil atmosphere with Shiva's chill. Especially as there was a chance of late spring rain tonight, and transforming it into unseasonable snow would be too conspicuous.

In the moment, Lunafreya's sole comfort was that her anxiety had made it too difficult for her to fall asleep and miss the appointed time.

It was very late at night, or rather, very early in the morning—enough so that Ardyn had finally come to bed. It was not easy to continue pretending to sleep when she heard the rustle of clothing as he changed, or when she felt his weight on the mattress as he slid under the covers, but she persevered. Only once Lunafreya was certain from Ardyn's breathing that he had fallen asleep had she slipped out of bed, pulled on a hooded cloak that fully concealed her nightgown, and sneaked out.

"Your Highness," greeted Weskham in the distance, and Lunafreya jolted back to herself. Bewildered from her own unsettled thoughts, she had not realized that the gondola bearing Noctis had arrived, and ducked automatically out of sight. "Thank you for coming here at this hour. It's good to officially meet you."

"Likewise," said Noctis, and Lunafreya was relieved to hear that he was still at least capable of sounding warm. "We'll come here for lunch tomorrow to talk about… about Dad." Her heart ached to hear the pain in his voice. "But if you called us here at this hour, you must have something important to tell us."

"I had been hoping to speak to you alone." Lunafreya could not see Weskham's expression, but there was a frown in his voice. Only after a confused pause did Lunafreya realize that Noctis must have brought his retinue. (Of course he had; he would never leave his friends behind if he could help it.)

"No, it's okay," said Noctis. "Anything you say to me, you can say to them."

There was a pause before Weskham said, "Very well."

So there was no alternative but to meet with them all. Straightening up again, and hoping that Noctis's friends did not share his opinion of her, Lunafreya took a deep breath and waited for them to round the corner.

Once they did, a few seconds later, Noctis came to an abrupt halt, and Prompto practically crashed into him. "Luna!" Ignis looked around warily; Noctis's voice had come sharply, and likely louder than he intended. His guard had heightened again so quickly that he seemed almost like a different person than when he had been speaking to Weskham a moment ago.

"I apologize for going to such lengths to see you, Noctis," said Lunafreya, feeling far from steady on her feet in response to Noctis's glare, but she did not allow herself to sway. "But there is a matter of some importance we must discuss."

"Yeah?" Noctis crossed his arms, a challenge in his voice. "What's that?"

"Soon, I must awaken the Hydraean and forge a covenant with her."

" _What_?"

This shock, genuine and unguarded, was the first expression Lunafreya had seen Noctis wearing since their reunion that did not seem forced in some way. Oddly, that much soothed her: his severe mask was capable of slipping around her as well. "I have already met with Madam Claustra to secure her blessing. Her only conditions are that you assist me, and meet with her to discuss terms."

"And if I refuse?"

That question struck more of a nerve than anyone other than Ardyn had touched. Perhaps it was that comparison that caused Lunafreya to draw herself up and scowl at Noctis outright. Resenting her personally was one thing, but refuting his fate to spite her was another. "If I am to risk the lives of everyone in Altissia by awakening Leviathan, as is my divine calling as the Oracle, the least you can do is prove yourself and receive her power."

Noctis's eyes flew wide at Lunafreya's outburst, and he lowered his eyes, but did not say anything. When his friends remained silent too, looking between the two of them, Lunafreya sighed. "You know that you are the Chosen King, Noctis," she said, more quietly now. "Please try to set aside your feelings, as I have tried to do, and act like it."

"What feelings have _you_ set aside?" asked Noctis, jerking his head up again, and curled his hands into fists. Prompto stirred in Lunafreya's peripheral vision as if to intervene, but she did not dare turn to see his expression, too preoccupied with studying Noctis's. Though he spoke angrily, it sounded more to Lunafreya like he was close to tears. "Loyalty? Sympathy? Love?"

"Yes, Noctis," said Lunafreya, remembering too well how inconsolable she had been when their engagement had been broken. (She wondered, not for the first time, if Noctis had felt the same.) "For the sake of more than just myself, I have had to set aside everything except my duties as the Oracle and as the former princess of Tenebrae."

Looking away, as he always did when at a loss, Noctis made a derisive noise. "You've changed."

Lunafreya had thought she had grown used to the persistent ache in her chest, but her heart twinged all the more sharply at his dismissive words. "I have _not_ ," she retorted, and Noctis's eyes snapped back to her as she took a step forward. Yet the distance between them still seemed infinite. "If you truly believe that, then perhaps you have never known me."

Gazing up at Noctis, Lunafreya found that the veil had dropped from his eyes. Seeing the regret in his expression, softening his resentment in an unspoken apology, was enough to make her almost lightheaded from relief. The hopes she had hardly dared think may yet prove true: his scathing words might not represent his true feelings after all, but the frustration that came with helplessness. And he offered no further rebuttal.

So close to Noctis, and no longer as dazed as she had been at her wedding, Lunafreya could not help but drink in his presence for a breathless moment. Though they stood at odds, the world around them seemed to vanish more and more completely with every inconsequential observation. His eyelashes, unfairly long and dark. The little freckles scattered here and there, only a few clearly visible from even this close. His lips, pressed together, but made to be kissed…

Gladiolus spoke, and Lunafreya and Noctis both jumped. "Hey, Noct," he said, and Noctis twitched in his direction, but kept his eyes fixed on Lunafreya's face. "We're gonna see if Weskham has anything to tell us, or if this is it. Good luck." Judging by Prompto's surprised expression, Gladiolus had not consulted any of them first, though Ignis did not seem to have any objections.

Noctis recovered himself quickly and nodded, looking over at the others a little sheepishly. "Right. Thanks."

With a pair of respectful nods in Lunafreya's direction, Ignis and Gladiolus headed in the direction of the bar. Prompto hung back for a moment, then slunk over to a different table some distance away, taking out his phone. As Lunafreya looked back at Noctis, she found that he had gone back to studying her, though he glanced away again as soon as their eyes met. "I guess… we should sit down."

Lunafreya nodded, taking a deep breath as they settled onto their respective stools. "I will keep this brief," she said, clasping her hands on the table. "Our relationship may have been damaged, but like it or not, our fates are still intertwined. As the Oracle, my calling is to ensure the success of the Chosen King. And…" Lunafreya looked Noctis in the eye. "If I might ask a single favor, I beg of you to remember that I will do so not only for the sake of my duty, but in accordance with my own wishes."

Noctis bowed his head briefly, his already somber expression darkening still further, and said nothing. Often, he needed time to consider and articulate his feelings before speaking, but this time, it seemed that he intended to keep quiet. He simply stared at Lunafreya, his expression unreadable, with no sign of breaking the silence.

After what must have been a full minute of unspoken unease, Lunafreya could bear it no longer. "What do you want from me, Noctis?" she asked, unable to discern his thoughts. She knew only that he blamed her for the destruction of his home and family. "I will apologize as many times as you wish, and I will mean it every time. I would reverse the fate of Insomnia if I could, I swear it, but I cannot change the past. Even if I had that power, I would likely need to prevent Ravus's uprising in order to make a difference."

Noctis nodded, and for the first time since she had broken their engagement, Lunafreya felt that he might understand her position. "I…" His breath hitched, and he trailed off, but this time, she had faith that he would speak again. When he did, his words came only slowly. "I know," said Noctis, his voice carefully measured but still the slightest bit tremulous. "I know you were protecting Ravus. I know our kingdoms, our families, always have to come first. I _know_ all that." He scowled, rubbing his forehead in one hand. "So why am I still so angry?"

The heartbreak in Noctis's voice brought tears to Lunafreya's eyes, though she was careful not to let them spill. Here was the sympathy and understanding she had wished for from the beginning, but tainted with renewed grief for all that could have been. "You have every right to be," said Lunafreya softly. "You have lost much to the empire, and I fear I am symbolic of all that has been taken from you."

But Noctis wasn't listening, his eyes darting from side to side as if looking for something on which he could focus. "If… I don't know, if the Niffs backed us into a corner and Ignis started a revolution or something," he said, toying with a button on his jacket. "If I had to marry someone from the empire to save him. If Tenebrae fell, and the Niffs killed your family"—Lunafreya's pulse quickened at this unintentional reminder of her mother's failing health—"how would you feel?"

For once, the question didn't feel rhetorical or pointed; rather, Lunafreya felt that he was at last trying to communicate. "Heartbroken," said Lunafreya, and Noctis nodded as if she had answered correctly. "And, yes, angry that such a thing was necessary. But…" Lunafreya hesitated. Saying that she would not blame him personally might alienate him once more. "It seems we handle that kind of frustration differently."

Noctis pursed his lips uncertainly. "I guess so."

They lapsed into silence, and Lunafreya took a moment to try and find the right words to turn the tables. That much might help Noctis empathize with her situation enough to ensure that they could work together. "In light of your earlier question, I must ask," she said eventually, trying to keep her tone gentle. "How would _you_ feel if our roles were reversed, Noctis? Marrying someone you could never love, unable to do anything but watch as Tenebrae burned?"

Something about Lunafreya's words seemed to get through to Noctis, as his eyes widened slightly and he sat forward, giving her his complete attention. Yet he remained quiet for some time, searching her expression intently as if in the hopes of finding something—or the lack of it—before he said, "You don't love him."

The words seemed to burst out of him, half a question, and Lunafreya had to fight back the strangest urge to laugh. How could Noctis have confused love with marriage in such a case as this? He ought to know that not every arrangement was as fortunate as their own had been. But then, the heart was not a rational thing: Lunafreya reminded herself that, in Noctis's position, she would be just as likely to fixate on where his affections lay.

She wished she could spare herself by evading the subject, to take the diplomatic route and say that she could not address such a thing, but Noctis of all people deserved the truth. At this point, giving him anything less could mean pushing him back into antagonism. "Of course I don't," said Lunafreya, resting her hand on her chest. "With what heart could I love anyone? Mine broke with our engagement."

Noctis shifted restlessly in place, almost as though to get up, but simply leaned farther forward instead. "Luna…"

Unable to stand his imploring tone, and with too many suspicions about what he might ask next, Lunafreya closed her eyes. "Please don't make me say any more of my feelings, Noctis," she murmured. "I have endeavored to forget our past, and if you have not done so already, I advise you to do the same. Otherwise, it will only cause more suffering in the end."

Lunafreya expected Noctis to put up a fight and rekindle their argument, but he did not speak or even move, even after she opened her eyes again. He simply looked at her for a long time before he said quietly, "Come with me."

Startled, Lunafreya returned her downcast gaze to Noctis's face. After all his vitriol, the most she had dared to hope for was reconciliation. Being invited to accompany him was close to the last thing she had expected. "What?"

"Come with us," said Noctis, more insistently, with an air of repeating himself. Perhaps he did not realize that he had said it differently the first time. "After you make your covenant with the Hydraean. You'll be betraying the Niffs to help me anyway, right?"

As Noctis spoke, he reached forward tentatively, and Lunafreya wanted so badly to restore their connection that she obeyed the impulse to take his hand. Electricity sparked through her veins at the contact of their fingers, but this was not the fight-or-flight skip in her pulse that Ardyn provoked. There was no darkness within Noctis for her light to dispel.

Something seemed to shift for Noctis too, a flicker across his face she had no time to interpret. "Please, Luna," he said, holding Lunafreya's hand tightly enough to take her breath away. "Leave Tenebrae to your family, and help us rebuild Lucis. Even with everything that's happened, we can still…" His voice cracked, and he swallowed, but met Lunafreya's eyes with newfound determination. "I want to believe we can still make this right."

It was a tempting offer, given straight from the heart, but Lunafreya knew in her soul that she could never accept it. She yearned to say yes, to forget everything and go with Noctis, but forced back the treasonous words. Given her position as the chancellor's wife and her role as the Oracle, the empire would likely spare no resources in retrieving her. Traveling together would place Noctis in significant danger.

Shaking her head at the mere thought, Lunafreya tried to withdraw her hand again, but Noctis held it fast, his fingers shaking slightly. "Don't you trust me to keep you safe from the empire?" he asked, his tone again acquiring an edge, though Lunafreya heard it as a note of desperation. "Don't you trust _us_?"

"I do not fear for myself half as much as you," said Lunafreya, sliding her hand from Noctis's grasp. This time, he did not stop her, though his fingers twitched as though he wished to do so. "My presence at your side will endanger you as much as it might help. It is better for us to go our separate ways, that I may assist you at a distance."

" _Luna_."

"To travel together is to unite the empire against us," said Lunafreya, trying to maintain her composure, but a hot tear slipped down her cheek despite her best efforts. "In keeping our distance from one another, we will spread their troops thinner by forcing them to seek us out separately. I wish I could go with you freely, Noctis, but… I cannot."

Noctis scowled, his sullen eyes burning into Lunafreya as if he wished to retort, but he held his tongue. As silence expanded between them once more, she could not look away from him. Even with Noctis sitting before her, she had never missed him so much. Every fiber of her being longed to remain at his side, yet she must return to her husband's bed within the hour.

The realization was powerful enough that she felt another tear streak down. Time was shorter than she would like, and this conversation had circumvented its intended point. "I will ask you again, Noctis," said Lunafreya, making an effort to calm herself. "Will you lend me your strength when I wake Leviathan?"

Though Noctis hesitated, he eventually let out a sigh, as if he had already expended all his strength of resistance. "Yeah," he said, and though his voice was low as if he did not want to admit such a thing, it was clear he meant it. Lunafreya relaxed slightly at his cooperation. "When are you going to do it?"

"I will make a speech on Sunday morning, and proceed to the Altar of the Tidemother from there." Lunafreya was scheduled to leave Altissia in one week's time, and could ill afford to cut matters too close. "If you meet with Madam Claustra first thing tomorrow to discuss terms, she will have three days to make her preparations."

Noctis nodded, a little listless, but that was better than shutting down entirely. "And until then?"

"Until then?" echoed Lunafreya, frowning.

"You're just gonna go back to Izunia?" asked Noctis, a bite of something like impatience in his tone, but his impatience had never felt like a knife to the throat. This bitterness toward Lunafreya's husband, regardless of her personal feelings, must be _jealousy_.

Lunafreya smiled sadly; Noctis could not truly be naïve enough to believe that she could hide from someone like Ardyn. It was a risk even to assume that he would not find out about tonight's rendezvous. "This isn't a fairy tale, Noctis," said Lunafreya, getting to her feet. "No love can redeem him, and no prince can rescue me. All I can do is hold on, for the sake of my— _our_ —people."

Noctis rose as well. It could not have been clearer that he disagreed, but at least he did not raise any further objections. "Then… I'll take you back. As far as the gondola."

Nodding, Lunafreya put up her hood and stepped forward to accept Noctis's arm as he offered it. She could not bear to look at any of his friends, even as she passed by Prompto's table, not wanting to see any of the thoughts that might be written on their faces. Lunafreya had not been keeping careful enough track of them to know what, if anything, they had overheard, and their pity would break her as surely as their ire.

Lunafreya had thought Noctis meant to take her only to the boat itself, and after he helped her into it, opened her mouth to tell him goodbye—but he climbed in after her, and they set off at his signal.

They did not dare to talk or touch in the gondolier's presence. Trustworthy as he may have been in Weskham's estimation, there were some matters too sensitive to speak aloud. Lunafreya kept her eyes on the scenery, but there were times she could not help but glance at Noctis now and again, only to find his eyes on her face before he directed them hastily elsewhere.

Knowing that he did not despise Lunafreya, as his initial words had implied, left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. Forbidden hopes that she had thought she had extinguished flared up from the embers anew, scorching her from the inside out so that she could scarcely breathe. She had not realized until this moment how readily her heart responded to Noctis, how difficult it would be to leave his presence.

Short and simple as the journey was, Lunafreya cherished it, simply because she and Noctis were together and not in opposition. When she looked at him again, she found him staring out at the city, unseeing, still as a perfectly carved statue. The passing lights reflected in his eyes so that she could no longer see their color, though she knew them to be deepest blue.

In that moment, she found Noctis as beautiful as the night that had given him its name.

By the time they docked again, a light rain had started falling, melancholy mist shining golden in the streetlamps' glow. Noctis disembarked first and helped Lunafreya onto the pier, and she felt his warm touch for some time after he let go. "Thank you, Noctis," she murmured, looking up at him briefly, but could not meet his eyes for long. Positioned like this, the desire to kiss him was almost overwhelming. "I am truly grateful for your support."

Rather than respond immediately, Noctis lifted Lunafreya's hand. She could not help but shiver at his touch, and trembled all the more as he bowed to brush his lips against her skin. They lingered there for some time, slightly parted so that she could feel the catch in his breath, before he withdrew and turned away. "I'll see you on Sunday."

"Goodbye," whispered Lunafreya, but was not sure Noctis could hear her, already returning to the gondola.

Lunafreya waited until the boat slipped silently out of sight before she made her way reluctantly back into the Leville, grateful that the place was well-maintained enough that the stairs did not creak on her way up. Arriving at her suite, she drew the key out of the hidden pocket in her cloak and inserted it into the lock as quietly as possible.

As soon as Lunafreya stepped carefully into the room, the light turned on, and she froze, blinded. Once her eyes grew more used to the brightness, she found Ardyn dressed in pajamas and a robe with matching slippers, sitting in the armchair and sipping tea as casually as if it were afternoon. Even as Lunafreya's blood turned to ice, he set his cup back into its saucer with a smile. "And just where have you been at this hour, my dear?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter named for The Glitch Mob's "[Between Two Points](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lHw_9QptTn4)", which is my favorite Lunoct song.
> 
>  **Note 10/30:** Thank you to those who offered me well-wishes in the moving process; they worked!! We did find a place, so things are still going to be busy for some time, but at least subsiding within the foreseeable future.


	12. Ask and Receive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya finally learns more about her husband, for better or for worse.

For a moment that lasted just a little bit too long, Lunafreya could not speak.

A part of her had apprehended this eventuality, but her thoughts were frozen, no believable excuses rising to the front of her mind. She knew she had to say something, but in the moment, it was all she could do even to lower her hood, struggling to conceal her thoughts. How could she have allowed her feelings for Noctis to distract her so thoroughly?

"I… couldn't sleep," stammered Lunafreya, painfully aware that she was a mediocre liar on her best days. Omitting information was easy enough, but she had never gotten into the habit of telling falsehoods. "I didn't want to disturb you, so I went for a walk."

"Did you now," said Ardyn, getting to his feet and sauntering forward until he stood before Lunafreya. His stature did not ordinarily serve to intimidate her, but she had become accustomed to Noctis's height again, and Ardyn was several inches taller than him. "A walk, or a gondola ride?"

So he had seen her. Lunafreya's stomach lurched. "Both."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

Ardyn's only response at first was a hum, pacing around Lunafreya as if to scrutinize her from every angle. Feeling like she was being circled by a predator, she did not dare to move, holding so still that she felt she could barely breathe. "Before you commit to that answer, dear wife, you should know that I see better in the dark than in the light."

Then Ardyn must have seen Noctis disembark as well. Lunafreya could only hope against hope that the trees had concealed the nature of their parting. "There was another passenger on the gondola."

"At four o'clock in the morning?" Ardyn gestured to the window, open to the weather. "The canals are as deserted as the streets, at least in this part of town. No gondolier is supposed to be working at this hour." He grinned. "Someone must have paid them a _princely_ sum."

Ardyn's choice of words was undeniably deliberate, and Lunafreya had to make a concerted effort to meet his eyes. "The kind of compensation gondoliers receive for working overtime is hardly one of my areas of expertise."

"And, as it turns out, neither is lying," said Ardyn, reaching forward to brush a lock of hair out of Lunafreya's face. At the feeling of his fingers on her cheek, she had to force herself to stand her ground; the instinct to shy away was overwhelming. "You wound me, Lunafreya. Did we not swear before the gods that we would give one another no reason to doubt one another's honesty?"

Again, Lunafreya could say nothing, feeling too numb even to be afraid. Given Ardyn's readily evident lack of faith, she had set so little store by their vows that, confronted with them now, she had no idea what response she should offer.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Ardyn seemed to have no need of one. "I commend your efforts to protect your beloved, my lady," continued Ardyn, taking her arm, "but your little charade is at an end." Before Lunafreya could so much as react, he escorted her to the chair where he had been sitting. "Would you like some tea while you explain yourself?"

Settling back into the armchair, Lunafreya did her best to remind herself that she had done nothing wrong. After all, she was morally in the right, at least if the Six had anything to say about it. Regardless of the empire's view on the matter, her faith in her actions was unshakable, and she could take some strength and comfort from that. "No, thank you."

Ardyn smiled. "Very well," he said, taking his teacup and saucer and settling back on the chaise longue across from Lunafreya. "Begin wherever you like; only take care that you tell the truth this time. Lying does not suit the mouthpiece of the gods."

Crossing her arms, Lunafreya felt some of the feeling flood back into her limbs. Ardyn's words were almost enough to make lying palatable, if only to spite him, but he was regrettably correct. Even had she had all the time in the world to develop a cover story down to the minutest detail, she was far from being an adept enough liar to fool him.

"What makes you think my 'beloved', as you call him, is still in the city?" As reasonable an assumption as it was that Ardyn was referring to Noctis, it would be wise to avoid giving him more information than he already had. If the opportunity presented itself, she could invent a male friend.

"I do not _think_ His Highness remains in Altissia," said Ardyn, and Lunafreya's heart sank. If he knew Noctis's whereabouts, it would be meaningless to pretend that she had been seeing anyone else. "I _know_. Word travels quickly in large cities, and I have eyes and ears everywhere. Though admittedly not quite enough to know whether you visited his lodgings tonight." He eyed Lunafreya keenly. "Where did you meet?"

The last thing she wanted was to draw the empire's attention to Weskham. She would never forgive herself if they found some reason to arrest him, or even to interfere with his business. If Ardyn was so insistent that she tell the truth, then she was going to make him work for it. "Not his lodgings."

"Public or private?"

Lunafreya hesitated. "It would not have been private had it been daylight hours."

Ardyn's eyes twinkled. "Why, I didn't take you for that sort of woman."

Lunafreya flushed, glaring. This was no time for suggestive implications. "The sort of woman I am is not the sort that carries on affairs, sir," she snapped, stirring in place, but did not dare to rise. "Our meeting was not a tryst, I assure you." Not that Ardyn should care either way.

As Ardyn smiled, Lunafreya realized too late that she had said too much. Her heart pounded all the harder, but there was no taking back her words now. "So you met on business, then," said Ardyn, returning to the chase with no outward sign that he had just provoked her. "I won't insult your intelligence by assuming that you agreed to discuss sensitive matters out in the streets, so you must have met at an establishment run by an ally."

Lunafreya barely suppressed a shudder. Ardyn's deductive powers were truly not to be underestimated, especially as he did not seem to require a response to his latest statement. Her shudder must have been reply enough. "Now, the question becomes…" Ardyn leaned forward, clasping his hands before him. "Did you meet as a prince and princess, or as the Oracle and the Chosen King?"

Either option was treason. As little as Lunafreya wished to respond, Ardyn was not to be denied. Still, she could not bring herself to confirm his suspicions directly, and sighed. "I am no longer a princess, and given what befell his kingdom, Noctis can hardly be considered a prince."

"Then you met to discuss the prophecy," said Ardyn matter-of factly. "And what aspect of fate could possibly be so urgent that you would leave your husband to sleep all alone?" It could not be more obvious that he did not require an answer. He was toying with Lunafreya like a cat with its prey. "Perhaps… something to do with the Hydraean, slumbering beneath Altissia. Awakening her, dare I say?"

At Ardyn's words, Lunafreya felt as though her soul had been severed from her body. The deftness with which he could dismantle her statements, leaving only the stark truth of her betrayal, frightened her as little else ever had. She had already been powerless to protect Lucis. Would this misstep now render her powerless to fulfill her destiny?

Lunafreya took a deep breath, summoning all her strength of will, channeling her faith in the Six to bolster her resolution. "Healing the Starscourge is only half of the Oracle's duty," she said, careful to keep her voice calm and steady. "If His Imperial Majesty wishes me to save the lives of his people, then he must also be prepared for me to speak with the Astrals."

"There is no need to justify yourself to _me_ , my lady," said Ardyn, smiling. Lunafreya braced herself to be placed under arrest, loaded onto an airship, and brought before the emperor to plead her case to him instead, but the words that followed were—"I did not say I disapprove."

Lunafreya had not been naïve enough to liken this encounter to a nightmare, but Ardyn's words felt so incongruous with his role as imperial chancellor that she wondered for the first time if she really was dreaming. She had thought that Noctis's earlier request for her to accompany him had been enough of a shock for one night, but this easily overtook it.

The Oracle's purpose in awakening the Astrals was to implore their help on behalf of the Chosen King, the scion of the line of Lucis, which had stood in opposition to Niflheim since antiquity. Establishing the covenants may have been sacred, but the empire had shown no concern for divinity when they had slain the Glacian in her most powerful form. Why, then, would the imperial chancellor not object? Did he intend to slay the Hydraean as well, before Noctis could accept her blessing?

Ardyn raised his eyebrows. "You needn't be so incredulous, Lunafreya," he said, his tone playful and admonishing in the same breath. " _I will support thee unconditionally and accept thine unconditional support. I will encourage thee in attaining thine ambitions, worldly and spiritual_." Another enigmatic smile played about his lips. "I am your husband as well as the chancellor, my dear. You would do well to remember that."

"Forgive me," said Lunafreya, and lowered her eyes briefly, as much because she did not know where else to turn them as in a gesture of deference.

"I must admit, I'm hurt," said Ardyn, not looking hurt in the slightest. "Why, you meant to wake the most fearsome Astral, and you weren't even going to tell the man who married you. Did you mean to slip away and leave me with naught but your song for company?"

That snagged Lunafreya's attention. Not many knew the exact nature of the Oracle's rituals—none of Lady Sylva's covenants had been made in populous enough areas to have much of an audience—but then again, Ardyn had been reading a collection of Cosmogony-related legends in his leisure time. It was possible that he simply enjoyed studying various obscure subjects, considering his equally unusual knowledge of flower language.

Still, Lunafreya made note of it in the moment before she realized that Ardyn was watching her closely, this time waiting for a reply. "I think you and I both know that I could not have slipped away so easily," she said, offering half a smile. "I intend to deliver a speech to the citizens of Altissia before I wake the Hydraean, and as you say, word spreads quickly here."

"And when do you intend to deliver this speech?"

"Sunday morning."

Ardyn nodded. "Three days," he said, glancing out the window as it started to rain in earnest. "In that case, I may be able to help in more ways than simply turning a blind eye."

As Ardyn got to his feet and padded over to the window, Lunafreya frowned. As a high-ranking imperial officer, he could not possibly be willing to divert his own country's resources to Altissia. Other than that, only former Oracles themselves, or at least those of their blood, typically had enough knowledge of the Cosmogony to participate in ritual preparation. "How?"

"That is a conversation for another time, I think," said Ardyn, closing the window and looking back at Lunafreya. "Tomorrow, or should I say, later today."

Of course. Lunafreya supposed she should have known by now that Ardyn would never indulge her with a straightforward answer. She longed to protest, but knew she was in no position to insist, and said only, "I will consider that a promise."

Returning to the armchair, Ardyn smiled. "Then let's to bed, Lunafreya," he said, extending his hand, and she had no choice but to take it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She had never feared his strength before, but combined with his mental acuity and the knowledge that he would be lying so close beside her, it was enough to make her shiver. "It has been a very long night, and the nights to come will only be longer."

* * *

When Lunafreya awakened, it was still raining.

The sound of raindrops on the roof was so soothing compared to her fitful night's sleep that she did not initially want to wake up, but finally convinced herself to stir and stretch. As she sat up, she realized with a jolt that Ardyn—dressed in his everyday attire once more, and seated in the armchair—was present for the first time. "Good morning," he said, looking up from his book to check his pocket watch. "By a margin of six minutes."

Lunafreya frowned, glancing the clock on the bedside table as well to find that he was absolutely right. The clouds must have darkened the sky just enough that the quality of light still resembled early morning, even though it was practically noon. "Good morning," said Lunafreya, slipping out of bed, and smoothed out her nightgown so that it fell properly to her knees. "I apologize for oversleeping."

"It's quite all right," said Ardyn, looking over at Lunafreya with some amusement. "You did stay up rather late last night."

Lunafreya's stomach lurched as more specific memories of their conversation came back to her. She supposed she was lucky to be alive right now, though felt no particular relief or comfort. "As did you," she said, making her half of the bed as an excuse to avoid looking at Ardyn, though felt his eyes burning into her. "I'd have expected you to sleep as late." Tea notwithstanding.

"Perhaps I would have, once," said Ardyn thoughtfully. "But, afflicted as I am with a nocturnal illness, I've grown accustomed to little sleep and less rest."

Given that Ardyn was almost asymptomatic compared to those Lunafreya healed, it had been remarkably easy for her to put the abnormal strength of his Starscourge from her mind—particularly as they came in so little contact, day to day. After all, the disease had not yet reduced Ardyn to a daemon, even if he referred to himself as one now and then for darkly humorous effect. And, considering how much else Lunafreya had on her mind at the moment, dwelling on answerless mysteries was not high on her priority list.

Fortunately, the most relevant mystery _must_ have an answer. Why had Ardyn stayed in the room instead of going to his office, as he had every other day? "Did you not say you had some work to do, Ardyn?" As Lunafreya understood it, that was the reason their honeymoon was somewhat longer than the average. Ardyn had claimed that he had some bureaucratic affairs to take care of, and he may as well take care of them in a scenic locale.

"Why, Lunafreya, I'm surprised at you," said Ardyn, tilting his head. "I know you've grown accustomed to solitude, but this _is_ supposed to be our honeymoon. I made sure to take care of matters over the last several days, that we might spend the last week together as man and wife. Business before pleasure, as they say."

"Ah," said Lunafreya, brought up short at the prospects of spending more time with Ardyn, though found her silver lining the next moment. If he intended to make this more of a honeymoon proper, then perhaps now was her chance to learn more about him, as she had failed to do thus far. Last night had only heightened her curiosity, after all. "Then… I suppose I ought to get dressed and take some tea with you."

As Lunafreya collected her outfit for the day and turned her feet toward the bathroom in preparation to wash up, Ardyn chuckled. "You're very compliant today, Lunafreya," he remarked, tilting his head. "It's almost enough to make one wonder if you're planning something."

"There is nothing about my intentions that you have not guessed."

"Isn't there?" asked Ardyn, quirking an eyebrow. "How disappointing." And, leaving Lunafreya to wonder at his words, he returned his gaze to his book.

Lunafreya intended to freshen up quickly, but—subconsciously needing some time alone—she ended up spending significantly longer arranging her hair than was necessary. After dropping her nightgown into the laundry basket, as it had received significantly more wear than usual last night (her cloak had concealed enough of it that Lunafreya had considered herself decent), she emerged again.

Seating herself on the chaise longue, and observing that the tea was still hot, she poured herself a cup and added a small amount of cream and sugar… and then, after a sip to taste, a small amount more. It had steeped long enough that it was naturally bitter. Only as she set down her cup did she realize that Ardyn had not so much as looked up at her, and gave no sign of doing so now.

"What are you so immersed in, my husband?"

Rather than answer directly, Ardyn held up the book. It was an antique copy of the Cosmogony, cover faded and tattered almost beyond recognition, pages dog-eared… scribbles everywhere. Had he _written_ in it? Lunafreya frowned at the very idea of a mortal writing in a book, especially a book of holy tales. "How old is that edition?"

"Very," said Ardyn, returning the book to its lap, and gazed down at it. "It was the first book I ever bought with my own money. I carry it with me… well, not _always_ , but whenever I have the luxury of bringing luggage." He looked at Lunafreya's expression over the rims of his reading glasses and smiled. "The writing is just as old, I assure you."

That absolved Ardyn of that particular sin, at least, and Lunafreya sighed. Talk of the Cosmogony reminded her of her duty, and now qualified as the 'another time' Ardyn had mentioned. "Do you intend to answer my question from last night, Ardyn?"

Ardyn removed his glasses, finally transferring his attention to Lunafreya. "If you'll be so kind as to ask it again."

"You said that you wish to help me establish a covenant with the Hydraean," said Lunafreya. "How do you intend to do so?"

"Leviathan is known to disdain mortals," said Ardyn. "Even your status as Oracle may not be enough to protect you from the Hydraean's wrath. Although the bay is not likely to become a battlefield until the Trial of Leviathan begins, she will likely not make any special effort to avoid harming you in the process. You will need more powerful allies than a prince and his friends."

More powerful? Lunafreya could not tell by looking whether Ardyn was versed in combat of any kind, but the impression he gave corresponded more closely to an actor than a warrior. "You intend to fight a goddess on my behalf?" asked Lunafreya, unable to conceal the note of doubt in her voice.

"Oh, I have no intention of fighting," said Ardyn, waving a hand. "However, I do have a number of resources at my disposal, and I will use as many of them as it takes to ensure your success. I will not lose my wife to some glorified sea serpent."

Lunafreya stared at Ardyn. Such words were blasphemous, and undermined his words from last night besides. If that was all he thought of the gods, then why should he abide by vows taken in their sight? But she could hardly accuse him of heresy now. "You say you will ensure my success," she said instead. "Do you intend to eliminate the Hydraean after that?"

Ardyn laughed. "Most of the gods are more inconveniences than threats, really. Even I can't afford to go out of my way to kill them." Lunafreya had not thought anything could repulse her more than marrying someone whose goal was the destruction of everything she stood for, but those words struck fear into her heart. Ardyn spoke as if slaying a god was a simple thing, not just practically, but _morally_. No one with a human heart thought in such terms.

"Besides," continued Ardyn, glossing over Lunafreya's increasing disgust and discomfort, "given the Chosen King's involvement, slaying the Hydraean might prove considerably more challenging than felling the Glacian, if not altogether impossible. I have heard that the Astrals' physical forms disappear from our star once the Chosen King accepts their power, that they may lend him their strength at his command."

That, too, was not common knowledge. How could Ardyn know of such arcane lore, yet still speak so casually of killing the gods? Lunafreya could hold her tongue no longer. "For someone so contemptuous of the Six, you know more about them than the most pious of my followers."

"One need not _enjoy_ a topic to be knowledgeable about it," said Ardyn, raising his eyebrows. "Otherwise, only the most twisted minds would study diseases."

"But how did you come to learn so much about the gods you detest?" persisted Lunafreya. This was one subject on which she refused to let Ardyn evade her. "Your wisdom cannot have been attained of your own free will."

"Indeed not," said Ardyn, and Lunafreya was momentarily surprised by his forthright answer. "As you may have guessed by now, I am no common skeptic. I had the rare privilege of being personally abandoned by the Six, long before I turned my back on them."

Lunafreya frowned. Even in their slumber, the Astrals still answered the prayers of humanity, their wills and wishes manifesting in the way events unfolded around them. "Yet still they brought you a position of power."

Ardyn's demeanor shifted in an instant, and Lunafreya felt a chill run through her as surely as if Shiva had been summoned. His face became a stony mask, motionless but for a muscle tightening in his jaw, and some emotion the like of which she had never seen from him flashed in his eyes—it might have been undiluted rage.

The fury in his gaze was gone as quickly as the lightning it resembled, but the tension remained in his voice, low and threatening and enough to set Lunafreya trembling despite herself. "The gods have brought me _nothing_ but suffering," growled Ardyn, gripping the Cosmogony tightly. "Faith was my prison, not my deliverance. I freed myself by chance, surviving on my own strength, biding my time. And, once I had the opportunity, I clawed my way here from the depths of a hell few others could even imagine."

Again Lunafreya found herself at a complete loss. As the Oracle, perhaps she ought to have leapt to the Hexatheon's defense, but Ardyn spoke with such absolute conviction that Lunafreya could think of nothing to say that might dissuade him from blaming the Six, and it was true that she knew precious little of his past. Most nonbelievers who confronted her had doubts, but no such decisive personal experience that contradicted her own.

Only after a long silence did Lunafreya remember to breathe. "Did the Six condemn you so directly?" she asked, once she felt she could speak without stuttering. She did not consider herself easily intimidated, but she had never seen Ardyn so agitated, and the ire of those who were rarely angry hit much harder. "Is no one else culpable?"

"When I am the cause of my own misery, my dear, I admit it," said Ardyn, looking over at Lunafreya with a tight smile. She glanced away momentarily in embarrassment, realizing that she had spoken clumsily. "But it seems to be an unfortunate rule among the gods that if one is to live, another must die, and so forth. Thus, as you are favored, so have I been forsaken."

It seemed that the more Ardyn said of himself, the less Lunafreya understood. Yet, curious as she was, she did not dare to pry. The most she could guess, knowing so little of his past, was that he was referring to his odd brand of Starscourge. She had encountered many whose belief had been shaken by this plague, but it had been restored again as soon as she had laid hands on them to draw it out. It was understandable that Ardyn, the one person she could not heal, had lost his faith altogether.

"You say the Six abandoned you," said Lunafreya, very carefully, so as to not upset Ardyn again. "Is that why even the Oracle cannot heal your affliction?"

To her astonishment, Ardyn actually looked mildly surprised for a moment, and there was a short pause before he spoke. "Well, this is unexpected," he said, sitting back a little more comfortably, his eyes trained on Lunafreya in unguarded curiosity. "An Oracle of the Hexatheon, acknowledging that her precious gods _may_ have treated someone unfairly? Now I've seen everything."

"I ought not have any reason to doubt your word, if you mean to stand by our vows," countered Lunafreya, paraphrasing Ardyn's own point from last night, and he smiled faintly. "And… I confess I have never heard of a case of Starscourge so severe. If the Six cursed you with it…" Lunafreya hesitated. "I want to believe that there is some other reason, but I can prove nothing." She was far from convinced that Ardyn had done nothing to merit the gods' displeasure, for one thing—but then again, she did not know whether his irreverence had preceded their perceived betrayal, or resulted from it.

Ardyn simply hummed, looking at Lunafreya for a long while as though he had never seen her before, before bowing his head with a soft chuckle. "In any case, for one such as myself, there can be no divine salvation. I resigned myself to _that_ long ago." Sitting back with a sense of finality, he opened the Cosmogony and donned his reading glasses once more. "But, as you see, it does not stop me from learning all I can."

Lunafreya bit her lip. Talk of anyone being beyond salvation did not sit right with her, especially since she had only let her powers take effect once before, and that had been largely accidental. Remembering to drink her tea, now lukewarm, she tried to think of how she might help. If there was something she could do to alleviate his pain, she would do it. She could not bear the thought of standing idly by while someone was suffering, even if that someone was Ardyn Izunia.

"May I try again?"

Glancing up from his book, Ardyn looked at Lunafreya carefully, seemingly confused in the moment before he understood her meaning. "Laying hands on me, my dear?" he asked, returning his eyes to the text even as she nodded. "If you insist, then you may, but nothing will come of it."

"We shall see," said Lunafreya, rising, and walked to Ardyn's side, kneeling beside him to be closer.

Though Ardyn extended his hand for Lunafreya to hold, he did not look up from his book a second time. Nor did he make any effort to dash her hopes. He said only, "Stop if you feel that your heart is affected. It won't do for the lady Oracle to be overpowered by the Starscourge herself."

Taking a deep breath, Lunafreya took Ardyn's hand in both of hers. Again she felt the shadows seething inside him, and she tightened her grip to stabilize herself, calling forth her healing light. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on maintaining the faint golden glow surrounding her hands.

Even with more experience in using her powers since the last time, Lunafreya felt that she was trying to shelter a flower from intense winds, bent on tearing it apart. As the seconds ticked by and she focused more intently to draw his darkness toward the surface, she had to struggle to breathe, and her pulse became painful. Yet she felt no alarm, her thoughts becoming too sluggish to realize that this must be what Ardyn had meant.

"Enough," said Ardyn softly, withdrawing his hand from between Lunafreya's; her grip had weakened so much that such a thing was easy. As he caressed her jaw, she realized dimly that he must be consciously restraining his powers, as she felt no hint of them now. Her hands lowered without her permission, arms drained of strength. They likely hadn't remained in contact for longer than a minute, but it felt like ages. "Are you convinced now, my lady?"

Lunafreya could only nod, head throbbing. Regulating her breathing carefully, she tried to gather her strength and center herself. With such a case of Starscourge as this, able to exhaust even the Oracle, it was no wonder that Ardyn referred to himself as a daemon.

The sound of Cosmogony closing barely reached Lunafreya's ears before Ardyn knelt next to her. Though her body felt very heavy, he scooped her up effortlessly, laying her down on the chaise longue. "Rest a while, Lunafreya," he said, gazing down at her with an expression she could not quite interpret. It seemed somehow softer than usual, but there was still an edge to it that made it impossible for her to relax. "I'm sure you will recover soon enough."

Only as Ardyn returned to his chair and his book did Lunafreya realize that he had never truly answered her initial question after all.


	13. The Trial of Leviathan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya and Noctis undergo their first revelation.

It had been quite a while since Lunafreya had last been able to meditate for any length of time.

Even now, moments before her speech, it took more than a few minutes for her to be able to clear her mind. There was her mother's health to consider, particularly as Ravus had been oddly silent; she feared that his communications had been intercepted. There was the matter of Noctis's safety, since they would have no contact until after the covenant. And there was the fact that, over the past few days, Ardyn had still given no hint as to the nature of his preparations.

Despite all his claims that they would spend more time together, he had been almost as busy as the first days of their marriage. In one sense, Lunafreya was relieved not to have to remain in his company much more than usual, but it also made her apprehensive. What could he be plotting? Had he been lying to gain her trust, only to plan on betraying her? Would he organize the imperial forces against her, or worse, Noctis?

It was only with difficulty that Lunafreya managed to push these thoughts and worries away and pray to each of the Six in turn. After calming herself with ancient words, she ran through her speech one more time, ensuring that she knew where to pause for breath, when to look up at the people that were now hers.

Once reassured that she had not forgotten her speech, Lunafreya slowly set about recalling the long-ago training she had received as the future Oracle. It was a good way of controlling her restless energy, and besides that, she may well need to take part in the inevitable battle today would bring. The more prepared she was mentally, the more easily her body would follow her commands.

The door opened, and Lunafreya's eyes fluttered open to find Ardyn entering. If it was time already, she must have been in reflection longer than she had anticipated. "Hail, Lady Oracle. Your public awaits."

"Thank you, Ardyn," said Lunafreya, rising. Ardyn bowed and gestured to the door, but as usual, his demeanor gave no hint as to his intentions. Lunafreya could ill afford to delay her speech for the sake of trying to discern them, so she simply took a deep breath to center herself. Then she left the room, strode down the hall, and finally walked out of the building.

From the noise, more people must have gathered than Lunafreya had anticipated, and she had to be careful to maintain an even pace as she moved forward. Reaching the podium, she clasped her hands and offered one last silent but earnest prayer to any of the Six who would hear her. _May all those assembled survive today's trials_.

"Dear friends, I stand before you today with little hope the words I speak shall reach beyond these walls," said Lunafreya, adjusting her proximity to the microphone as she spoke. She would never get used to the way her voice sounded like this, booming and echoing around the plaza as though she was some sort of goddess herself. "For, slowly but surely, the light fades from our world. And as it does, the shadows shall loom ever longer until all succumbs to the darkness—darkness that evokes terror, hatred, and sorrow in the hearts of men."

Perhaps it was a dark tone for the beginning of a speech, but Lunafreya could not pretend that all was well. Trying and failing to heal Ardyn had reminded her sharply how dire the situation was for so many. "The ashes of Lucis," she continued, her voice coming close to breaking as she caught sight of Noctis in the crowd and could not look away. "A dream of peace twisted into a nightmare of death and destruction, claiming innumerable lives and leaving myriad souls to suffer."

Lunafreya finally wrenched her eyes away from Noctis, looking around the rest of those assembled. "Yet I beg you, do not surrender to despair. Have faith, for our gods watch over us. By their blessings, by the stars that light the heavens above, our world will be delivered from the perils of the dark." Knowing that the people tended to doubt even the Oracle's words in days like this, she gathered her resolve and gave voice to her purpose. "I stand before you here in Altissia to call upon Leviathan, goddess of the seas, spirit of the deep."

The crowd whispered among themselves, and Lunafreya glanced around, trying to gauge the nature of the murmurs. Only Noctis seemed unmoved, unsurprised. All others seemed incredulous, and perhaps wary, as well they should be. "By the sacred rite, I will commune with the Hydraean. But first, I offer you my solemn vow: on my honor as Oracle, I will not rest until the darkness is banished from our world, and the light is restored."

Cheers rose, but subtly, a shout here and there amid quieter, happier noise. Lunafreya stepped back from the microphone to look around at them, feeling acutely like she would never see something like this again. "Bless you all," she said, more softly, and curtsied.

When she straightened up again, Lunafreya found to her mild surprise that Noctis had not moved, gazing at her with an unreadable expression. She braved a smile, risking a quick nod in his direction, and was glad to see his expression soften in response. Turning before her eyes could linger on Noctis for an imprudently long time, Lunafreya retreated back into the building to take up the Trident and make her last preparations.

By the time Lunafreya returned to her room, Ardyn had departed again. She wondered if he had been watching her speech, whether he had believed anything she had said, whether he had laughed at it. The thought might have angered her mere days ago, but now, she felt only sorrow. Her powers could bring him no relief; her words could bring him no comfort. As little as Lunafreya was inclined to _like_ Ardyn, he was deserving of her pity, at least.

Lifting the Trident from its bed of velvet, Lunafreya found that it was less heavy than it looked, and far less cold. Holding it felt almost like embracing a friend, and Lunafreya had to pause and get used to the sensation. Perhaps it was because her mother, and all her female ancestors before her, had wielded this same trident with the same pure intention of protecting this star.

Leaning her forehead against the Trident, Lunafreya imagined leaning her forehead against Lady Sylva's, wishing she could be there to embrace and reassure her. Something inside her was full of fear, but she could not trace the sensation. Was it fear for herself, for her mother, for Noctis, for Altissia—for Eos itself?

Lunafreya took a deep breath, trying to concentrate. Now was not the time for worry, however founded. Now was the time for action, and it was crucial that she warm up her voice before using it to summon a goddess. Humming now and then was instinctive, but as she considered what might be a suitable melody for practicing, she realized that had not sung aloud since her marriage.

Her thoughts landed on one of the pieces she knew from an opera she had seen in her youth and loved ever since. It was a song of which she used to think quite often; a sweet and fairly simple duet (provided one was blessed with a good enough vocal range to cover it), though easy enough to sing on one's own. That may be enough to help her relax before what was likely to be a grueling experience.

Lunafreya hummed her way through the first verse to get used to the melody again, raising her voice to sing the second. " _Love brings relief in pain and sorrow; it soothes a soul in misery. Love holds the key to each tomorrow; in it is born Eternity_." Trying not to think of how her heart ached for Noctis, she took a deep breath. " _For love's sweet sake the world began. Woman and man, thus love began_."

It was the ending that would help Lunafreya warm up her voice the most, containing high and low notes juxtaposed, similar to the song of the stars. But it was also the ending that was the most painful. " _Love is pure and love is bright_ ," she sang, closing her eyes to suppress the tears stinging them. She could not afford to break down now. (Perhaps this had not been the best practice song after all.) " _Lovers are each other's light_."

The last note had scarcely stopped resonating before someone spoke. "Bless me, my lady?"

Lunafreya started, eyes flying open to find Ardyn standing some distance away, and blushed. She was fairly used to having an audience when she was sufficiently prepared; public speaking, for instance, no longer frightened her. Still, it was always embarrassing to be caught practicing. "Ardyn," greeted Lunafreya, making an effort to set aside her self-consciousness, and stepped toward him. "I shall give you my blessing if you tell me what aid you intend to lend me."

"How unexpectedly calculating of you," said Ardyn, though he was smiling. Taking a moment to examine his expression, Lunafreya found that he looked somewhere between relaxed and _excited_ , neither of which he had any right to be. "But I'm afraid that would spoil the surprise. If those are the conditions of your blessing, I suppose I shall have to forsake it."

"I suppose so."

"Then again, perhaps your singing voice was blessing enough," said Ardyn, and any hope Lunafreya might have had of vanquishing her blush disappeared. Judging by Ardyn's widening grin, that had been his intention. "Come now, don't be shy. The Hydraean deserves just as good a show."

"I have some hope that it will be better," said Lunafreya stiffly.

"In that case, I look forward to it." Lifting Lunafreya's hand, Ardyn bowed to press a light kiss to the back of it. "Good luck, Lunafreya. I shall pray for your safety."

Smothering the impulse to ask to what god Ardyn might pray, Lunafreya made an effort at a smile and moved out the door.

The plaza had already been cleared by the time she emerged from the building again, yet she felt like looking back at it before she turned and walked along the stone path to the Altar of the Tidemother. A part of Lunafreya felt inexplicably like she would be leaving this place forever, but forced herself to keep her eyes forward. It was time to think not as Lunafreya, nor as the former princess of Tenebrae, but as the Oracle.

Upon reaching the Altar, Lunafreya took a moment to get her bearings. The sea was still, but it felt too much like the calm before a storm for her to take solace from the glassy blue waters. And, true to her mother's words, she felt that she knew how to act. Holding the Trident tightly, she took one final deep breath before raising her voice in ancient song, a haunting and wordless melody echoing around the bay.

Even the wind stilled as Lunafreya sang, as though it were listening, but she sensed something stirring beneath the sea. Perhaps it was for this reason that even the harsh voice emanating from the ocean itself, drowning out her song with ease, did not startle her.

_What fool mortal dares break the slumber of the Tide?_

The language was almost unintelligible to the ear, spoken as if filtered through many layers of distortion between the speaker and the listener. Such was the tongue of the Astrals, colored by their physical shapes. Yet even without a more familiar voice in her head to translate, Lunafreya instinctively understood the meaning.

"It is I, Lunafreya, blood of the Oracle," said Lunafreya, raising her voice as much to stabilize it as to ensure that she was heard. Unlike when she had addressed the populace, its only amplification came in the form of the rock off which it ricocheted; it was likely that only Leviathan would hear. "Goddess of the seas, I beseech you. Enter into this covenant, that the King might reclaim the Stone."

Curtsying deeply, Lunafreya did not dare to move, remaining there with the Trident to steady her. Lowering her head humbly, she steeled herself in the ensuing stillness. She must be prepared for anything, most particularly resistance.

A serpent burst from the water the next moment, or perhaps the water _became_ a serpent—enormous, towering over even the tallest building in Altissia. Staring up at her from the Altar, Lunafreya could hardly wrap her mind around Leviathan's sheer size. _This wretched pile of bone and flesh, ignorant of that which governs All, comes to requisition the might of a goddess?_

Even at scathing words like this, Lunafreya could not allow herself to flinch, gripping the Trident until her fingers hurt to ensure that she did not so much as tremble. Any weakness on her part would reflect badly on Noctis. "I do."

 _What does a lowly, ephemeral speck know of all Creation?!_ As she spoke, Leviathan swung her great head toward Lunafreya, knocking a part of the Altar into the sea. A sharp flake of stone flew by Lunafreya's face, and she inhaled sharply as it scraped her cheek. If she had suffered only this, Leviathan must intend only to intimidate her and test her resolve. (At least for now.)

Scowling, Lunafreya straightened up again, cut stinging as if in a reminder not to do anything too rash. Still, Leviathan's argument seemed petulant at best, rooted in vanity. "I know what you must know," said Lunafreya, glaring at her. "That the King of Kings is to drive the darkness from our star."

Leviathan evidently had no interest in listening. Even as Lunafreya spoke, the Hydraean summoned spheres of seawater, elongating into tentacles that shot toward Lunafreya. Crying out automatically in the instant before she was overwhelmed, Lunafreya was driven backwards and fell to her knees, wincing as they and the Trident both scraped against the stone.

A fragment of rock, swept along from the now completely ruined Altar, hit Lunafreya's shoulder hard. Her instinct was to gasp from the pain, and she almost choked on saltwater in the instant before her lungs were reunited with ocean air. Coughing, she had to cling to the Trident for stability. The water had been so powerful it had torn her dress, but she scarcely noticed, hauling herself to her feet even as she fought to get her breath back.

Leviathan wasn't finished. _Blasphemous ingrates, all men, quick to forget the ages their goddess stood watch!_

Still feeling short of breath, Lunafreya had to wait a moment before speaking. "It is in receiving mercy that men offer praise, and in shedding grace that the gods solicit worship." Though her voice was hoarse, it was at least audible—more so than Lunafreya had expected, overwhelmed as she had been.

 _Yet this profane speck speaks her 'King' heresies before a goddess,_ retorted Leviathan, half interrupting. _Insufferable sacrilege!_ Even as she spoke, Leviathan lunged forward, and Lunafreya closed her eyes as the Hydraean's maw enveloped the platform on which she stood.

For a moment, there was only terrifying darkness, but then the Trident sparked with light and power, and Lunafreya raised it on an instinct. Even here, on the verge of being devoured, she could overcome anything. "Leviathan!" shouted Lunafreya, her voice echoing into the goddess's belly, and the Hydraean recoiled with a roar as a bolt struck her from above.

Light, air, and cold. Even trapped only for a moment, Lunafreya had never been so grateful to see the sky again. The Trident still gleamed, lending her strength, and for the first time, she felt the thrill that came with gaining the upper hand. This was nothing like training against human opponents with a mundane trident; this was standing up to a goddess with a divine weapon passed down for thousands of years. "I vow that the King will prove himself worthy."

 _If not, then the Feeding shall begin, and it shall not end until every last speck is devoured!_ Leviathan's words became a bellow addressed to the sky, as if she took an oath before the Draconian. _So let the covenant be forged_.

Lunafreya placed her hand over her heart, beating so rapidly—she had not noticed how frantically it had been fluttering—and lowered her eyes in reverence. Even having succeeded in securing the Hydraean's cooperation, the revelation was only just beginning. Lunafreya felt more cold and exhausted than triumphant. If that had been the diplomatic half of her duty, what was to come?

 _Heaven and Earth, High and Deep, Birth and Return_ … The ocean rose with Leviathan's voice, a wall of water surrounding Altissia, and Lunafreya glanced around uneasily as imperial airships glided from the sidelines. She was far from surprised at their appearance, but was their target the Hydraean, or the enemy prince soon to be on the frontlines?

Now that Lunafreya's own life no longer lay so decidedly on the line, she feared for that of Noctis. She may have established a covenant with Shiva, but Noctis had not received her power, or that of any other Astral. This was his very first trial, and while Lunafreya believed in his worthiness with all her heart, Leviathan may not be so charitable. And the empire certainly wouldn't hold back.

A magitek craft soared through the air, headed straight for the Hydraean, and Lunafreya braced herself for all hell to break loose. A serpent of seawater shot out of the ocean, but whoever was on the craft parried it with a blade, the water glancing off steel. Lunafreya frowned. The empire relied almost exclusively on magitek; she could not remember the last time she had seen an imperial soldier carrying a sword.

Could it be Noctis…?

It must be. As the craft neared Leviathan, a tiny human shape leaped from it and onto the Hydraean herself, and the craft soared away rather than crash into the Hydraean directly or open fire. Lunafreya could hear nothing of what Noctis might have said, but Leviathan seemed to be listening to him, even as she moved her great head through the air.

Until she sent Noctis flying.

Lunafreya gasped at the sight, knowing such a fall could be deadly, but needn't have worried. Noctis only flailed in midair for a moment before throwing his sword like a javelin, disappearing into particles of light and reappearing safely on a street far below to retrieve his glaive.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Lunafreya turned back to Leviathan just as the imperial airships opened fire. They must have taken that as their hint to attack, brutal and indiscriminate in their aim. They cared little for this city, and nothing for the gods or for Noctis. Why should they care if their bullets of concentrated light missed their mark? What concern was it of theirs that the homes of innocents were set ablaze?

As Noctis rejoined the fray, Lunafreya's troubled heart rose to her throat. Dodging imperial projectiles, he leapt from building to ruined building, attacking the Hydraean when he could. Leviathan must have demanded that he prove his strength, but the empire was aggravating her, and he did not always have a clear shot.

Isolated on a platform whose walkway had been destroyed, and without the power of dissolution that Noctis had at his disposal, Lunafreya could only watch and pray throughout the battle. She could not look away from Noctis as he vanished and reappeared in flashes of light, dodging the Hydraean's attacks and slashing at her whenever he had the opportunity. The power held by the line of Lucis was formidable, and strangely beautiful amid the ugliness of the surrounding battle.

Letting out an ear-splitting roar, Leviathan lunged toward Noctis with mouth open wide, and Lunafreya screamed, though she could not hear herself. A concentrated barrage of imperial fire, undoubtedly mere coincidence, forced the Hydraean's jaw aside in such a way that she did not devour Noctis whole. Instead, her snout hurtled into him and knocked him heavily backwards so that he landed hard on a stone path, and did not rise again.

Pouring her energy into prayer, Lunafreya chanted her wishes under her breath, invoking all the others of the Six. She could no longer stand idly by and watch Noctis, inexperienced as he was, attempt to subdue such a hostile goddess on his own.

Divine light streaked into the heavens from the Trident and came down again the next moment like a bolt of lightning onto Noctis. The force of it lifted him into the air and, it seemed, restored him to strength. Particles of sky-blue light shaped themselves into illusory weapons, swirling around him, conducted by their wielder yet moving as if of their own will.

This must be the Armiger. Lunafreya had heard tales of its power, but she had never seen it before, and gazed at it in wonderment. The atmosphere itself seemed to have shifted, feeling almost electric. Now, the Hydraean gave Noctis her undivided attention, ignoring the imperial airships even as they bombarded her with projectile fire.

It seemed that Noctis's power had grown almost to rival the Hydraean's, as he repelled her with more ease now, parrying her strikes and returning them swiftly. The Armiger, resembling imperial holograms, seemed to affect her much more than his sword of steel.

Yet, even restored to strength and with the spirits of his ancestors on his side, Noctis still had his limits. One badly timed strike was enough for Leviathan to find an opening and slam into him with force that might have killed any ordinary human.

As Noctis was thrown back once more, this time onto the ruined Altar before Lunafreya, the Armiger flickered and died. Though her fingers weakened around the Trident, there was no time even to wince as it clattered to the stone below. Scrambling over to Noctis as Leviathan reared her head once more, Lunafreya shielded his unconscious form with her body, unthinking. Viscerally, she was prepared to sacrifice herself if it could convince Leviathan that he was worthy.

But the attack she anticipated did not come.

Instead, sudden heat billowed over her in damp waves, and Lunafreya squeezed her eyes shut, holding Noctis all the more tightly. When she dared to open her eyes again, she found steam curling from the ruined stone, now half-dry. Lunafreya could not even begin to imagine what had happened, no thoughts entering her head as she looked up. And then she could only stare, uncomprehending.

Their savior was an enormous man—though still dwarfed by the Hydraean—with shaggy black hair and several great ridged horns curving out of his head. But Lunafreya scarcely noticed once her eyes moved lower. Half of his body was slick and teal and oozing black like oil, patched together with grayer skin, seemingly fused with a loincloth.

A daemon?

 _Pyreburner_ , snarled Leviathan, her voice booming around Altissia, nigh incomprehensible from her fury, and Lunafreya's heart stopped altogether. She must have misheard; this could not be the Infernian. _A slave to the shadows dares show his face before the Light? Defy me, and I will extinguish the last ember of your miserable existence!_

The Hydraean could not be mistaken; Lunafreya shuddered. So this was a god… daemonized. Her thoughts were in such disarray at the truth of this impossibility that she could not even guess whence the Infernian had come, or how, or why. In the moment, she could only be grateful for his intervention.

Even faced with Leviathan's threat, on which she could certainly make good, Ifrit did not stand down. Nor did he offer any rebuttal in the tongue of the Astrals. His was a wordless, almost animalistic bellow as he leapt from ruin to ruin almost as Noctis had, though he movements were less nimble and more bestial, raw power igniting the crumbling buildings as they crashed hissing into the sea.

Fire being a largely ineffective weapon against water, Lunafreya would not have thought the Infernian capable of standing up to the goddess of the sea, but the battlefield already felt different. If his purpose was to focus and redirect the Hydraean's wrath, it was certainly effective.

The shock ebbing slowly away, Lunafreya took to thinking, her eyes fixed on the battle before her. She had assumed Ifrit had perished, his body laid to rest at the Rock of Ravatogh, but the evidence of her senses was not to be ignored. Still, without a covenant established by either Lunafreya or Lady Sylva, he should not have arrived on her behalf. Someone else, then, must have called him here.

At the thought, something clicked in Lunafreya's mind.

 _Ardyn_.

Lunafreya could not say why she was so certain that her husband had been responsible for summoning Ifrit, but it felt irrefutably true. His secrecy, his apostasy, his Starscourge stronger than any other case—all were points in favor of such a theory, however wild. Yet, though Lunafreya knew that she should be terrified at the implications of this display of power, she felt only a profound numbness.

And cold. Cold that could freeze an ocean.

Someone rested a cool and gentle hand on Lunafreya's shoulder, and she looked up, dazed, to see Gentiana. She stood among many copies of Shiva, flitting around like a sentient snowstorm. They were all infinitesimal compared to Leviathan, but they were enough to draw more of her attention at least, whirling around her, turning all the water she hurled at them to harmless snow.

 _Frostbearer_ , growled Leviathan. _You would interfere?_

 _The Glacian and her Messenger trust in the Oracle_ , was Shiva's even reply, Gentiana's voice translating softly in Lunafreya's head. She felt herself relax slightly into the familiarity of her gentle tone, readjusting her hold on Noctis as she became aware of her own body again. _As is their duty. As is that of the Hydraean_.

_I will not submit to a consort of daemons!_

_She is uncorrupted_ , said Shiva, raising her voice, and this time, it seemed to come from each clone of herself. _It was not she who led the Pyreburner astray, nor called him forth from his ashen grave_. Gentiana, too, rose into the air and adopted the guise of Shiva, slightly larger than the others, flying to hover before Leviathan's snout. _The Rulers of Yore have granted the Chosen King their power. The Tidemother must cease her fury; the covenant is fulfilled_.

Rather than respond, Leviathan simply stared Shiva down. Only the sound of Ifrit smashing into imperial airships—evidently as willing to destroy those as anything else—broke the silence between them.

After what seemed an eternity, there was a sound between a roar and a sigh, and the unbearable tension began to dissipate. As the light of Leviathan's covenant descended upon Noctis and circled around him, Lunafreya weakened at the realization, trembling, holding him all the closer, heedless of propriety. Whatever came next, they had done it. Noctis had the blessing of the Hydraean.

Perhaps it was relief, or perhaps fatigue from bearing the weight of another covenant, but Lunafreya felt suddenly faint. She had to force herself to remain upright as the sound of approaching footsteps entered her mind, but looked around too fast, falling onto Noctis as the world spun around her. The most she saw in the instant before she had lost her balance was that they appeared to be soldiers. Were they coming to rescue them, or to condemn them…?

Strong arms picked Lunafreya up, and she fought to keep her eyes open, but her only clue as to this soldier's identity was an ornate silver mask. She did not even have the strength to wonder who was behind it, or who the others might be, before darkness swallowed her vision, and she fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lunafreya's warmup song is from Mozart's "Die Zauberflöte"; my favorite version is [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCrSIuj-giA&t=53s), directed by Ingmar Bergman. The best part is that, in the full production, they managed to make the subtitles translate, scan, and rhyme correctly. They're not displayed in the linked clip, but I borrowed those.


	14. Outcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya's situation changes much more than she had bargained for.

The first inkling Lunafreya had of consciousness was a roar like the sea.

Initially, she thought it was simply her ears still ringing, but then she noticed the slight trembling all around her, and placed the sound as the hum of a massive engine. Yet there wasn't enough jostling for her to have been in a car or a boat. Perhaps she was airborne, on the way back to Niflheim to face the empire's judgment.

That idea did not come as much of a surprise, as memories of the pact with Leviathan came flooding back to her. Regardless of Ardyn's claims that he, personally, did not disapprove of Lunafreya's aims—for whatever reason—it was highly unlikely that she would face no repercussions at all for assisting the Chosen King so directly. Particularly as Altissia, the capital of an imperial territory, had incurred such heavy damage. For all she knew, it could have been destroyed altogether.

But what of Noctis? And the masked soldiers who had come for them?

Keeping still for now, Lunafreya took in as much of her surroundings as she could without opening her eyes. She lay on her back in some sort of bed, its mattress a little too firm to be comfortable. Her clothes felt different, too; judging by the fabric crowding her legs, she now wore pants instead of a dress. Someone must have unclothed her, but then, her outfit had been soaked through during the Trial and torn half to shreds.

As she finally stirred, Lunafreya realized that her wrists had been bound. So had her ankles, as she discovered upon trying to move her feet. Her bindings weren't too tight, given that it had taken her this long to notice them, but they were more than enough to restrict her movement. Her heart rate jumped, and she stopped breathing for a moment. If the empire now trusted _her_ so little that they would bind her hand and foot, then what had become of Noctis?

"About time you came to," said a half-familiar voice, and Lunafreya's eyes flew open to find Aranea sitting some distance away, watching her. Any sign of her presence had been drowned out by the engine noise, but if she was the officer assigned to watch her, then this really must be an airship.

"Wh-where is…?" Lunafreya's voice came out hoarse. Clearing her throat only seemed to make it worse, as she lapsed into faint coughing.

"Whatever you were gonna say, I'm not really the right person to ask," said Aranea, getting to her feet. "All I can tell you is, you're here because some old friends of yours want you here, and you're tied up because they don't know how kindly you'll take to being kidnapped. First smart thing they did since calling me for help."

"Old… friends?" That didn't quite fit with the fact that Lunafreya had evidently been kidnapped.

Aranea pursed her lips. "Well, maybe 'friends' is a strong word," she said, crossing her arms. "But you've met at least one of 'em before, and believe it or not, they don't really mean you any harm. I wouldn't have helped them if they had." Her eyes softened slightly. "This mess ain't your fault."

Lunafreya's aching throat tightened. First Insomnia had been destroyed, and now Altissia. Both times, there had been evidence implicating her, albeit for different reasons. She had been raised not to mind being disliked or even hated on a personal level—such was the price of being born into a royal family—but it troubled her as the Oracle. Any widespread loss of faith could result in the long night falling all the faster. Was she truly blameless?

"I think I'll let them do the explaining, because shit gets pretty complicated," continued Aranea, drawing Lunafreya out of her gloomy thoughts. Helplessly, she watched Aranea stride to the door, where she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "Glad you're still with us, milady. Make sure to keep it that way." And with that, she rounded the corner and disappeared.

Wincing, Lunafreya managed to sit up slowly, taking in the world around her. The Trident was a welcome sight, resting in a weapon rack against the wall, and offered her some peace of mind. Still, the only escape route was the door through which Aranea had exited, not that Lunafreya could get even that far since she was bound like this. Even if she were capable of leaving this room on her own power, there was nowhere to go on an airship in motion.

Glancing down to better assess her new attire, hoping it might give her some clue as to which faction was responsible for her abduction, Lunafreya found that she was wearing a nondescript pair of jeans and a tank top. Both hung a little loose on her frame, but not by much, and were likely the source of the faint perfume wreathing around her. She vaguely recognized the scent, but could not quite place it. Had it not been Aranea's?

The door opened to admit its owner, and Lunafreya blinked as she made the connection, swallowing dryly. "Corvina?"

She shook her head. "Crowe, actually," she said, approaching, followed by two men—one thickset, the other muscular. "Altius. A soldier of the Kingsglaive, along with these two idiots." She jerked her head at the two men behind her, each of whom shot her a dirty look. "Nice to officially meet you, milady."

"Libertus Ostium," said the heavier man, nodding once shortly.

"Nyx," said the more athletic-looking one, closing the door behind him. "Nyx Ulric."

Lunafreya only dipped her head. She might have been more pleased to make their acquaintances if the three of them hadn't abducted her. "Where is Noctis? Why am I h—?" Another coughing fit cut her off, and her head felt suddenly very light, enough so that she swayed violently in place.

"Whoa, easy there," exclaimed Crowe, rushing forward to steady Lunafreya as she pitched sideways, and tilted a canteen to her lips so that she could drink from it. Lunafreya did so gratefully, barely able to pay attention to Crowe's next words: "You both could've died in that storm."

"Libertus brought His Highness back to his friends," said Nyx, and Lunafreya's eyes slid over to him. "He was still unconscious when we left, but we got the news that he woke up a few hours ago. Sounds like he's fine; just tired." Lunafreya let out a sigh of relief. Noctis's friends were not the type to lie for the sake of maintaining a strong front. "He has to stay behind and help out in Altissia for a little while, per some sort of an agreement with the First Secretary, but then he'll be on his way."

Along with the others, presumably. Lunafreya could not properly clasp her hands with her wrists bound, but closed her eyes and bowed her head all the same, sending a prayer of sincere gratitude to the Tidemother for sparing Noctis's life.

Only after that did she remember that she had not yet thanked her saviors, even if they had also turned out to be her captors. "A thousand thanks for saving me," said Lunafreya, looking around at each of them in turn. Now that Nyx had reassured her of Noctis's safety, her head felt much clearer. She felt light, almost buoyant, and not in a way that had anything to do with dizzy spells. "You said you hail from the Kingsglaive. Do you answer to Noctis, then?"

Crowe shook her head. "We've been keeping in touch with His Highness, but only Drautos answers to the royal family directly," she said, though seemed to realize that the 'royal family' as such was no more, as she grimaced and looked away. "Or at least, he used to. But the Kingsglaive answers to Drautos."

"Titus Drautos," explained Nyx, seeing Lunafreya's confusion. "Captain of the Kingsglaive, and the last real hope of Lucis. He's leading the resistance, or what's left of it."

Lunafreya frowned. "The resistance?"

Nyx nodded. "The Kingsglaive has lost a lot of members, but the captain's holding down the fort in Insomnia. Last we heard, the empire's General Glauca has taken over the Citadel, so the fight's still ongoing."

"I never knew," murmured Lunafreya. As much as it pained her to hear of continued warfare, she could not help but feel the slightest bit hopeful all the same. If the people of Lucis were continuing to rally against the empire even after such a tragedy, their national spirit had not been dampened as much as Lunafreya had thought.

"Yeah, well, can you blame the Niffs for hushing it up?" asked Crowe. "It'd damage their reputation if anyone got word that Lucis was still putting up a fight. Tenebrae might get to thinking it still has a chance."

" _Tenebrae_ is a part of the empire now," said Libertus, his expression dour, and Lunafreya's heart grew heavier. He, like Noctis, must believe that Tenebrae had betrayed Lucis by surrendering. To her sorrow, he wasn't any more wrong than Noctis had been: perhaps it would have been better for Tenebrae to resist as well, and go down with Lucis. "So you'll be our leverage to negotiate with 'em."

"Sorry about that, milady," added Nyx, shooting a reproachful glance at his more abrasive companion.

"Your leverage?" asked Lunafreya, staring at Libertus. "The empire promised to establish a treaty, and then destroyed Insomnia. What makes you believe that they would be willing to bargain for my return when they could just as easily seize me by force?" She sighed, frustrated. "I have already failed Lucis once. I could not bear putting its people in danger a second time."

Libertus looked taken aback, perhaps that she could admit her involvement so readily, but it was again Nyx who spoke. "Lucis is _already_ in danger, Highness. Has been from the start. A little extra pressure isn't gonna do much." To Lunafreya's surprise, he smiled. "If anything, we'll be able to do more damage once they concentrate their attacks."

"Tenebrae's surrender got us into this mess," said Libertus, crossing his arms. "Yours can help get us out of it."

"Besides," added Crowe, before Lunafreya could even think to protest again, "even if things don't work out the way we want, and they leave us all alone, you'll still be out of the Niffs' hands for now. That's a good thing, right?" She gave an exaggerated shudder. "Even if you and His Highness aren't on the best of terms, your husband still gives me the creeps."

Lunafreya sighed, resisting the temptation to agree. "Will you at least unbind me?"

The three of them exchanged a glance, and Nyx nodded. "No problem," said Crowe, flicking out a jackknife from nowhere. (Lunafreya jumped at the metallic noise, every bit as sharp as the blade itself.) "Sorry about that. Had to be done for… a couple reasons, actually."

"What do you mean?" asked Lunafreya, as Crowe expertly slit the bonds on her wrists.

"Oh, you know," said Crowe, throwing off the thin covers to sever the ropes on Lunafreya's ankles as well. "First, so we could send a few pictures to your husband to let him know we mean business." Lunafreya colored slightly. Knowing Ardyn, such pictures would hardly have the desired effect. "And second, because Nyx here figured it was a good idea to keep you from running off before you even heard us out."

"I have no intention of throwing myself off any airships, thank you."

"You sure?" asked Nyx, crossing his arms, as Crowe shut her knife, gathered up the cut ropes, and withdrew. "With all due respect, milady, you're pretty reckless. Who was it that decided to summon an angry sea goddess, again?"

"I had little choice," said Lunafreya, recognizing Nyx's dryly humorous tone a split second too late, and felt her color heighten further. There was nothing to do but try to move on quickly. "And… I must also introduce myself to the Archaean and the Fulgurian." The remaining gods were somewhat farther removed from human society, for which Lunafreya was grateful; she could not bear the thought of another city laid to ruin. "If I might ask, where is our destination?" Somewhere in Lucis, no doubt, given the Kingsglaive's allegiance.

Crowe pursed her lips. "Well, the eventual plan is to rendezvous with the prince and company in Insomnia," she said, and Lunafreya frowned. Why were they so intent upon joining forces with Noctis personally when her presence would place them all in greater danger? Noctis must not have confided in Crowe, if she was making the same suggestion Lunafreya had already rejected. "But we can't land as close to the capital as we'd like. Had to take the long way around, lose a few Niffs sniffing around our tail."

"Last we checked, the closest settlement should be Lestallum," added Nyx, answering Lunafreya's next question before she asked it.

"Then neither the Disc of Cauthess nor Fociaugh Hollow should be too far out of our way," said Lunafreya, more relieved now. Regardless of their ultimate destination, and the inadvisability of joining Noctis, she could at least fulfill her duty by waking the Astrals along the way. Perhaps that would even buy her time to convince the Kingsglaive that she ought not try to work with him directly. "If you can agree to make those detours, I will go with you the rest of the way to Insomnia willingly."

"Or else what?" asked Libertus, crossing his arms.

Lunafreya blinked at him. "I shall travel on my own."

Crowe tilted her head. "We'll follow you."

It saddened Lunafreya that she would side so readily with Libertus when his intention was clearly to challenge her, but at least her tone was more curious than hostile. It seemed that Lunafreya would have to prove her capabilities even to her supposed allies. "Then I will have no choice but to fight back."

Nyx raised his eyebrows. "Against three trained members of the Kingsglaive."

"I was trained as well." And, as the Oracle, Lunafreya already had the power of two gods on her side.

"Really?" asked Libertus, but Lunafreya could not tell from either his expression or his tone whether he actually believed her or was mocking her. "And here I thought you were some spoiled princess."

"I may have been a princess, but my upbringing was far from undemanding," said Lunafreya, unable to blame Libertus for such a common misunderstanding. "Having been raised as the future Oracle, I had to train my body as well as my soul. I may need some time to recover from the Hydraean's revelation before I can make full use of my abilities, but I assure you, I have undergone extensive combat training since my youth."

Nyx whistled, evidently impressed. "Armed or unarmed?"

"Both," said Lunafreya, feeling the slightest bit proud. "My instructors took particular care to ensure that I can defend myself in any situation, and I cannot be expected to have a trident with me at all times. I am no master, but I am also familiar with weaponless self-defense."

"Well, that's a relief," said Crowe, beaming, and Lunafreya gave a wan smile. "Thought we were gonna have to spend the whole trip looking after you, but if you can fight alongside us, that'll make things a lot easier. Especially since you _will_ have a trident with you at all times."

"Yes," said Lunafreya, returning to the point. "Will you allow me to speak with the Six on our way?"

Nyx and Crowe exchanged a glance before nodding. Even Libertus joined them, albeit only after a hesitation. "As long as it doesn't take too much time or draw too much attention from the Niffs," said Nyx. For all Crowe's forwardness, he must be the de facto leader of this group, if Crowe and Libertus had allowed him to voice their collective thoughts.

"I can make no promises, but I shall do my best," said Lunafreya, giving an exhausted smile. It seemed that her fatigue was disproportionate, as though it was catching up with her only now. "More than enough damage has been done; I will not allow any others to come to harm on my behalf."

Libertus seemed like he was about to say something, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but Aranea poked her head around the corner and cut him off. "Heads up—we're starting the descent," she said, glancing quickly at each of them in turn. "Look alive if you wanna stay that way."

Nyx raised his eyebrows. "How close are the Niffs?"

"Too close for us to risk landing for more than a minute," said Aranea. "Not close enough to be worth worrying about, as long as you can find some cover right away. The craft following us ain't the kind that usually carry bombs."

" _Usually_?" asked Libertus, but Aranea was already walking away.

"Guess we'd better get ready," said Crowe, following Aranea without further ado. Libertus hustled after her, but almost crashed into her as Crowe stopped to glance back at Nyx. "I'll grab our stuff. You just have the one bag, right?"

Nyx nodded once, and Crowe departed as well. Lunafreya glanced around, feeling the shift in pressure as the airship lowered rapidly in altitude, and couldn't stop herself from yawning. At least that cleared out her ears a little bit. Feeling too restless to simply sit down the whole time, she got gingerly to her feet, but no sooner than she had risen than the airship started tilting.

Uttering a soft cry of surprise, Lunafreya staggered, but Nyx caught her, bracing himself. "Easy," he said, guiding her to sit back down, and seated himself next to her. "Better stay like this till we land. Then grab your trident and follow me."

Lunafreya nodded, a little embarrassed, and sat still, trying to avoid leaning too far into Nyx. Fortunately, though the descent was abrupt and uncomfortable, it was not sickeningly so. Still, Lunafreya did not trouble to suppress a sigh of relief after the jolt as they finally made contact with the ground. Most of her time in airships had been spent trying not to think of exactly how high up she was.

"Okay, everybody out," said Aranea's voice over the intercom, and Lunafreya got to her feet once more. In her peripheral vision, Nyx turned to her as if to remind her, but she was already on her way, taking the Trident and waiting for him to pass before following him. She would have time for more of a reunion with her ancestral weapon later.

Lunafreya stumbled on her way out of the airship, but this time managed to catch herself, though Nyx turned back at the sound of her yelp all the same. Aranea just nodded at the two of them before turning back to Crowe and Libertus. "I've got places to be, but I'll keep in touch," she said, nodding at Crowe in particular. "Good luck."

"Thanks," said Crowe, saluting. "See you around."

"You better."

Aranea turned away, and the Kingsglaive started walking. The airship took off almost as soon as she headed back inside, but Lunafreya couldn't afford to stop and stare. She just kept moving, following the others into the nearby woodland and glancing up uneasily at the sound of imperial craft above. Thank goodness Crowe had given her some clothes that blended in; white would have stood out far too much.

It soon became evident that Lunafreya could not walk as quickly as the Kingsglaive. On a good day, she might be able to keep up, but given her condition, this was far from a good day. She managed to catch herself after stumbling the first couple times, but her missteps soon became frequent enough for the others to take notice.

"Here," said Nyx finally, slowing down. "Get on my back."

Lunafreya wished she could assert herself, but she knew better than to protest. She could not let misguided pride interfere for the sake of proving herself: it was plain that she would only slow them down if she insisted on moving under her own power. "Thank you," she said instead, approaching.

Nyx bent so that she could climb onto his back. "It's no trouble," he said, straightening back up again, and started walking again. "You don't weigh anything." Lunafreya had never allowed a stranger to carry her like this, but she didn't have time to be embarrassed. At least there was a layer between Nyx's hands and her thighs, so it didn't feel like too much of an intrusion on her personal space.

They walked for some time, long enough that Lunafreya was beginning to wonder when they planned to stop. It was getting dangerously close to nightfall by the time they finally did, arriving at a haven just after the sun dropped below the horizon. Libertus, at least, seemed to know where they were going, leading the way to the clearing.

Its blessing was still strong after what might have been centuries—however many years it had been since an Oracle had hallowed this place—but Lunafreya would take no chances. Just to be sure, she walked around the perimeter, Trident in hand, ensuring that it remained strong in the face of the lengthening night. If nothing else, she felt a comfort in the motions and whispered words, reestablishing her connection with the divine.

Still, Lunafreya had some misgivings. "Isn't this place too exposed?" she asked, glancing around uncomfortably. Blessed or not, this was still a clearing; the woodland would be far more sheltered.

"Nope," said Crowe through a mouthful of granola bar. (They shouldn't risk a campfire, so cold rations were all they had.) "Places like this _look_ exposed, but imperial forces go haywire. That's the great thing about the Niffs relying so much on magitek." She swallowed. "And they say spilling blood on the ground of a haven is bad luck, anyway."

An electronic noise interrupted Crowe, and Lunafreya couldn't place it at first, but then noticed Nyx checking his phone. And then he answered it, raising it to his ear. "Sir." That could mean anything, and the quality of the silence that followed told her nothing. Nor did the "Yes," though after one more unreadable "Of course," he approached Lunafreya and extended the phone wordlessly.

Not knowing what else to do, Lunafreya took it. She barely had time to be confused, let alone muster any kind of greeting, before her unthought questions were answered. "Lunafreya," said Ravus's voice, and she weakened at the sound, sinking onto her sleeping bag. She had missed it more than she had known. "Thank the gods you're alive." His voice seemed uncommonly close to breaking.

"Yes," said Lunafreya. "Is everything all right, Ravus?"

There was a hesitation. It sounded like Ravus's breath had caught, and Lunafreya felt a thrill of foreboding. "I want you to remain calm."

Cold dread filled Lunafreya's heart. With words like that, something terrible must have happened after all. "What news?"

Another pause. "Mother passed away yesterday."

The world seemed to stop, all noise sounding farther and farther away. Lunafreya could not breathe, let alone say anything. Her thoughts felt numb, unreal… and yet, this news still came as less of a shock than she expected. She had not wanted to believe that Lady Sylva would never recover from her decline, but perhaps some part of her had known.

"She didn't suffer," Ravus was saying. Lunafreya could not tell whether she had missed anything, and did not have enough of a voice to ask. "I was with her. From what I gather, it was during, or after, the Trial of Leviathan."

As Ravus spoke, the phone slipped from Lunafreya's grasp. Strong hands caught her shoulders as she swayed in place, and she glanced back to find Nyx crouching next to her. Even as he picked up the phone and handed it back to her, she scarcely had enough energy to be grateful that she had not dropped the phone onto the stone floor of the haven.

"Lunafreya?" asked Ravus's voice.

"Yes," managed Lunafreya, raising the phone to her ear again. "I'm sorry. I…"

"I wish I could be there," said Ravus, letting out a long breath that hissed and crackled over the phone. "Better yet, I wish you could be here. It was never my desire that you should be rescued by strangers, but circumstances being what they were—"

Some of the feeling started coming back into Lunafreya's mind, and she frowned as questions flooded in. Had Ravus been aware of her abduction? She had assumed this had been the Kingsglaive's decision alone, that no one else knew their plan. Was this why Ravus had not been in contact this past week? "How do you know where I am?"

Silence.

Lunafreya grew frustrated, her already unstable temper shortening, too overwhelmed to maintain her patience under this kind of duress. She could ask the Kingsglaive, but it was important to her to hear an explanation from Ravus. He must have known that she would not want to risk further heightening tensions between the empire and the remnants of Lucis. " _Brother_."

"The Kingsglaive contacted me a few days ago," said Ravus, sounding as though he spoke only reluctantly. "They told me their plan, as well as where to direct any correspondence. Thank the Six they did, or we would not be speaking now."

"And you approved?" demanded Lunafreya. "You didn't think to tell me?"

"You wouldn't have gone with them."

"Because this plan places everything and everyone I love in danger!" exclaimed Lunafreya. She had not realized how close to tears she had come, but as she spoke, she recognized that she was crying. "And I refuse to become the weapon that kills them. My duty is to heal our star, not to escalate the strife that plagues it!" The Kingsglaive intended to use her, but it would be altogether too easy for the empire to reverse the situation.

"Lunafreya," said Ravus, sounding pained. "All is fair in love and war."

"Nothing is fair in either," said Lunafreya, her voice breaking, and sniffled. She did not like weeping in front of others, but she could not help it, though turned her back on them. "Mother is dead, I am wed to _Ardyn Izunia_ , and my life is nothing more than a bargaining chip." She took a breath that became a sob. "The home I remember is long gone, and I can never return there."

"But I am still here," said Ravus, his voice strained. "Wherever that may be." He took a deep, shuddering breath, half a syllable away from a vocalization, and Lunafreya wondered if he was crying, too. She could not remember ever witnessing such a thing. "We are family, Lunafreya. The same blood runs in our veins; I am always a heartbeat away from you. Do not forget that."

Lunafreya swallowed, calmed by Ravus's words despite her momentary anger with him. Regardless of his reckless habits, he was still her brother, and she could not help loving him any more than she could help her current situation. "I… I won't."

"Be safe," said Ravus quietly. "I will contact you again whenever possible, but I suspect that there will be much to occupy my time in the coming days."

Of course. Since Lunafreya had given up her title, that left Ravus to take the brunt of the duties as ruler of Tenebrae. He might even have to meet with Ardyn in the coming days to sort out the political repercussions of their mother's death, and that was enough to make Lunafreya feel sick with worry. As a former rebel, Ravus had already been sentenced to execution once. What if he was branded a traitor, or co-conspirator? What if they followed through this time? Would she lose her only remaining family, the one who arguably understood her best?

What if Lunafreya's sacrifice in marrying Ardyn was for nothing after all?

"I love you," said Ravus, his voice slow and steady, and Lunafreya forced herself to breathe. Panicking now would certainly not help anyone. "Remember that, Sister."

"I love you, too," said Lunafreya, her throat closing in on itself, and there was one final pause. Only after hearing the click that meant Ravus had hung up did she hand back Nyx's phone. He regarded her with something like pity, but she could not bear it, and turned away before she whispered her last addition, addressed as much to her mother as her brother: "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note 12/18:** I always underestimate the sheer volume of things that have to be done after a big move, so life is a bit too busy for me to dedicate as much of my time to writing as I'd like. Thus, I'll be continuing to update on an irregular basis rather than weekly for some time, but I'll still try to update on Fridays when I can, so there'll be at least some consistency. (All right, so it's currently Saturday by AO3 standards, but it's still Friday where I live, so I'm counting it.)
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and for bearing with me! Even without a dedicated update day for this story, I hope to keep to a somewhat reasonable schedule until the end.


	15. Choosing Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lunafreya and her captors-turned-comrades procure some disguises and attend a festival.

Lunafreya scarcely registered the rest of the journey to Lestallum.

She seemed to recall, from the losses she had felt now and then, that she tended to become quiet and introspective when in mourning, but this kind of silence was oppressive. There seemed to be nothing to say, or at least, no words with which she could articulate her feelings even to herself. Lunafreya simply _existed_ for the next couple days, hardly using her voice except to renew the blessings on the havens. With neither Astral nor Starscourge in her path, that was the only one of the Oracle's duties she could fulfill along the way.

There were brighter patches, here and there, some of them literal. It was thanks in large part to four chocobos that they arrived in Lestallum as quickly as they did, though Lunafreya's lack of experience in riding did slow the others down at first. Still, it was time well spent in her estimation, her focus no longer on the darkness on the edges of her thoughts. Instead, her attention was taken up with maintaining her balance and control. Lunafreya even caught herself smiling a few times, if only at the ticklish sensation in her stomach whenever her chocobo fluttered over some stone in its path.

Still, distraction could only take her so far. Though it drew Lunafreya out of her grief, it also disoriented her enough that, each time they stopped for the night and she had time to stop and think, she could no longer tell what exactly she felt. Her heartbeat still rang hollow from her loss, but thanks to their ultimate destination, hope was beginning to expand in her chest again—slow and aching and tainted by fear that she would lose Noctis too before they could reunite.

They finally arrived in Lestallum on the third day of travel, as the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky. Lunafreya only recognized how fatigued she had become as they dismounted to return the chocobos. She swayed in place before someone steadied her, and glanced up to find Libertus. His eyes were full of more concern than she had anticipated, hesitant but genuine. Still, he seemed embarrassed, and quickly went to join Nyx and Crowe as they took care of the transaction.

Lunafreya, meanwhile, took a deep breath, trying to center herself. She was unaccustomed to feeling so detached from her own consciousness, but perhaps she was too hungry to pay much attention to anything except the smell of street food.

Street food?

Blinking a few times, Lunafreya studied her surroundings more carefully, having been preoccupied up till now. She couldn't see much of the city itself from the outskirts, but she caught glimpses of lights and lanterns strung across dusky streets, and there were many more people than she expected to be out and about in these times.

"Enjoy the festival," said the outpost attendant, and Lunafreya glanced back to find her and an assistant already turning away, chocobo reins in hand. A festival? The idea of any such lighthearted occasion felt utterly foreign to Lunafreya in the moment. And, to her surprise, the others seemed just as confused.

"Are you not familiar with this celebration?" asked Lunafreya, frowning, as they started walking.

Nyx shook his head. "The three of us are from out in the sticks—Galahd," he said, and Lunafreya felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Tenebrae was small enough that it had very few location-specific events; she had mistakenly assumed Lucis was the same. "Most festivals in Lucis are regional. This one must be a Cleigne thing."

As they entered Lestallum proper, looking around at the lights and smiles served to lift Lunafreya's spirits slightly, though little about her own situation had changed. There were still places left in the world, in _Lucis_ , yet unbroken by recent events. Whole towns of people were living ordinary lives, finding reasons to celebrate and cast off the gloom of war and bloodshed.

The more Lunafreya saw, the more certain she was that this festival had very specific origins, though she could not begin to guess them. Many people were dressed in jackets and boots that looked to be of a style from centuries ago. It matched the music well, played on acoustic guitars and simple woodwinds. And, inexplicably, there were piles of hay everywhere.

"The Assassin's Festival, looks like," said Libertus, and Lunafreya came to a halt, realizing that he had stopped to look at a bulletin board. "That's convenient."

Lunafreya blinked a few times, taken aback—that was a gruesome name for a joyous occasion—but Crowe's expression lit up in recognition. Libertus seemed like he meant to say more, perhaps to ask her about it, but before he could speak, his phone rang. Sighing, Libertus took the call with a quick _sir_ by way of greeting, walking some distance away to speak in private.

Nyx moved forward to take his place, eclipsing Lunafreya's line of sight as he examined the bulletin board. "Looks like it celebrates some ancient folk hero from a secret society. Legend has it he worked in the shadows to free the people of Cleigne from oppression."

"Or she," added Crowe, sidling over to elbow Nyx. "No historical records mean no one really knows, right? That's why they just call them the Assassin."

Lunafreya stepped around the two of them, tuning out their budding good-natured argument, to look at the notice board herself. Scanning the bulletins, she found a calendar of events. Chocobo racing, athletic exhibitions, specialized musicians, falcon showings… "It seems as though it just started, and that it lasts a week."

Nyx glanced over at her, ignoring whatever Crowe was saying. "A week," he repeated thoughtfully. "That's lucky. If we can get our hands on some costumes like those, we might be able to blend into the crowd." He looked around, then down at himself. "I guess we do look like refugees already, but I'd rather have some of those hoods to hide behind."

Frowning, Lunafreya was about to ask if his jacket did not have a hood—it had been one of the first things she had noticed about the Kingsglaive, along with their masks—but stopped herself. Wearing Lucian uniforms in what basically amounted to Niflheim territory would be akin to painting targets on all their backs, to say nothing of Lunafreya's. She must have been more exhausted than she thought, for something so obvious to escape her.

Crowe shifted in place in Lunafreya's peripheral vision, and she glanced over at her to find that she had caught sight of something in the distance. Turning, Lunafreya found Libertus approaching again. "It was the captain," he said, and neither Nyx nor Crowe looked surprised. "Wanted to know where we were, so I gave him a quick update."

"What'd he say?" asked Crowe.

"Just to be careful," said Libertus, crossing his arms. "Says the road to Insomnia is a rough one, so we should rest up here while we have the chance."

"Damn, if the _captain_ says it's rough, it must be blockaded or something," said Crowe, raising her eyebrows. "Yeah, we'll definitely wanna restock while we can. We've been lucky not to have to fight against more than monsters so far, but something tells me that luck is about to run out."

"Okay, then our first item of business is to stand out a little less," said Nyx, looking around. "Any idea where we can get some of these costumes?"

"No, but I can find out," said Crowe, already moving to ask someone wearing a beautiful jacket.

The conversation took place out of earshot, mostly thanks to the snatches of conversation and music filling the air, but Lunafreya saw in Crowe's countenance the same open friendliness with which she had introduced herself as Corvina. She wished, with acuteness that surprised her, that she could approach people so easily. There were few she had the privilege of calling friends; there were too many titles separating her from most others. It reminded her of how desperately alone she felt, heart aching anew with the pain of loss.

In thinking, Lunafreya must have lost track of the outside world, because by the time she came back to herself, Crowe was already returning. "This way," she said, beckoning them to follow her, and led the others down the crowded street without further ado. After making a turn at the first intersection, she proceeded most of the way down a block before stopping at a weathered wooden sign hanging over a haystack.

Opening the door with a tinkle of bells, Crowe stepped inside. As Lunafreya followed, Nyx and Libertus bringing up the rear, the girl at the counter looked up. "Sorry, but we're just about to—" she began, but stopped. She was older than the last time Lunafreya had seen her, but still familiar enough that they both froze as their eyes met. "Lady Lunafreya?"

"Iris," said Lunafreya, no less surprised. Iris had always been a little distant despite her civility, for understandable reasons, and Lunafreya found that she did not know how exactly to address her. "Are you working here all by yourself?"

Iris nodded a little hesitantly. "Rhoda's… sick."

From the catch in her voice, Lunafreya could guess the nature of the illness, and inclined her head in understanding and a strange sort of relief. "Then please, let me heal her." Truthfully, Lunafreya longed for something useful to do with herself, something beyond pacing around the borders of havens. As difficult as it could be to draw the darkness out of others' blood, Lunafreya had not realized how _alive_ she felt in summoning the light… at least, whenever the darkness was weaker.

A series of complicated expressions flashed across Iris's face, too quickly for Lunafreya to pinpoint any one of them, but she finally nodded again, lips pursed. "She's upstairs," she said, opening a door behind the counter. Though she placed her foot on the first step, she cast an uncertain look over her shoulder, eyes flicking between the Glaives as they took a few shuffling steps forward.

Lunafreya turned to them, and they stopped at her glance. Iris seemed vaguely uncomfortable with them, and Lunafreya was could certainly handle the scourge on her own; there was no reason for them to follow. "If you would be so kind as to wait here," she said, then slipped behind the counter and ascended the stairs.

"Rhoda," said Iris gently, as Lunafreya entered the room. The ceiling was low, the rafters visible, the space cluttered with chests and tables and rolls of fabric. An elderly woman lay on a battered fold-out couch, the patches of scourge visible on her skin. This was really more an attic than a real residence, and Lunafreya pressed her lips together. Festival or not, there could be no doubt that many in Lestallum had to live like this—even more than usual, with all the refugees.

"Are those two sets of footsteps I hear?" asked Rhoda, coughing. "I said _no_ visitors."

Iris gave a very faint smile. "Not even the Oracle?"

Rhoda opened one eye to glare at her. "Don't be ridiculous, girl," she started saying, but her voice lost strength as she noticed Lunafreya. She had initially assumed that Rhoda was opening only one eye because she meant to go back to sleep, but her closed eye barely responded even as her open eye widened further. "Is that really her?"

"It is," said Lunafreya, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Something about this woman reminded her of Maria—it might have been as simple as her age—and she sent a quick prayer to no god in particular, more a wish that her attendant was faring well. "Will you allow me to heal you?"

"No, I'd rather die of plague," said Rhoda, and Lunafreya almost flinched as she remembered that the people of Lucis likely did not regard her as an ally, but then realized that Rhoda's faint cough was an attempt at laughing. "Yes, of course. Please do. Iris, dear," she added, and Lunafreya was grateful for the opportunity to calm her pulse. "Have you finished closing?"

"N-no," said Iris, profoundly uncertain.

"Then what are you waiting for? Get back to it." This must have been Rhoda's accustomed attitude, because Iris smiled a little sheepishly. "I'm sure you can trust the Oracle to do her job."

"All right," said Iris, though reluctantly, and her eyes slid to Lunafreya. "Take good care of her. Please." And with that, she was gone.

Lunafreya took a deep breath, resting her hand over Rhoda's closed eye, and set to work. It was a relief to feel the Oracle's powers take effect as intended, no longer overpowered by seething shadows. Even through her fatigue, Lunafreya found it exhilarating to draw out the scourge and melt away the darkness like sunlight, to feel Rhoda's heartbeat strengthen and synchronize with hers.

As Lunafreya withdrew her hand again, Rhoda laughed, and this time, the sound was less feeble. "To think the lady Oracle herself would visit my bed of pain," she said, sounding incredulous. "I had lost all hope. How can I ever repay you?"

Opening her mouth, Lunafreya intended to say it was only her duty, but Nyx cleared his throat, and she jumped. When had he arrived? "We could use some festival costumes, if you can spare a few," said Nyx, leaning against the doorframe. "I and a few other Kingsglaive are on a mission to protect the Oracle, but we all stick out like a sore thumb."

"Yes, you do," said Rhoda, looking Nyx up and down. Her eyes were sharper than Lunafreya expected, though they softened as they moved over to her. "Those clothes aren't fit for an orphan, let alone a former princess." Lunafreya's throat ached at the unintentional reminder that she was both, and she lowered her eyes. "If you hadn't asked, I would have offered. Take whatever you want."

That was more than enough to jolt Lunafreya out of her thoughts. "I cannot accept such generosity."

"Nonsense, dear," said Rhoda, giving Lunafreya a gap-toothed grin. "I won't have it any other way. You saved my life!"

Lunafreya bowed her head, already able to see that further resistance was futile. Besides that, Nyx was right: they did need costumes, and it would be foolish to turn down an opportunity like this. "I am in your debt."

"Oh, get along with you," said Rhoda, waving her hand, and struggled to push herself upright. Leaning forward, Lunafreya helped her instinctively, arranging her against her pillows. "My soul is worth more than a couple outfits. I'll be sure to make a few more before I die."

On an impulse, Lunafreya squeezed Rhoda's hand gratefully, the way she remembered holding Maria's, and rose. "At least allow me to thank you," she said, dipping her head, and Rhoda smiled as Lunafreya went back down the stairs.

As Lunafreya emerged from the tiny stairwell, Iris gave her a smile, small but genuine and full of relief. "Thanks," she said quietly, her voice warmer than Lunafreya had ever heard it, as Lunafreya moved back to the other side of the counter. "Please, take whatever you need. I'll cover it myself if I have to."

"No need," said Nyx, coming back down the stairs, and closed the door behind him. "She said it's on the house."

Smiling, Lunafreya took to browsing the racks and shelves. These were all exceptionally well-made clothes, and could undoubtedly be used for more than just costume purposes, even if their style was somewhat outdated. In some ways, they bore a resemblance to the uniform of the Kingsglaive, but not so much that it would make them stand out.

"Wish Aranea could've come with us," muttered Crowe, eyeing an admittedly lovely steel-gray jacket sporting a dramatic red stand-up collar… and a black lace back and sleeves.

"Why, you want a _roll in the hay_ with her?" asked Nyx, grinning, and was promptly punched in the shoulder.

One by one, the three of them disappeared into the fitting room, though Lunafreya paid little attention to their movements. She took the longest time out of any of them to choose her outfit, keeping practicality in mind (and counting herself lucky that she did not have to choose between form and function), until she finally disappeared into the now-free changing room.

When she had finally donned the outfit on which she had decided, Lunafreya barely recognized herself in the mirror, which could only be a good thing. She could not remember the last time she had worn black, or any color so bold as red—most of her wardrobe consisted of white and cream and the occasional neutral blue. Nor could she recall if she had ever worn leggings like this, though the tunic and coat were thankfully both long enough that she did not feel self-conscious about their tightness.

The ensemble should have been frightfully expensive; Lunafreya could discern no flaw in the execution of the design, however ambitious and intricate. The thought crossed her mind of hiring Rhoda as her tailor before she reminded herself that she no longer had the means of doing so.

Glancing around the store as she emerged, Lunafreya found that her companions had left, and barely suppressed a flare of panic before she realized that they were probably waiting outside. Embarrassed, she made her way toward the door, catching Iris's eye along the way. "We appreciate your business!" called Iris, waving, and Lunafreya smiled back at her before pushing her way out the door.

As she departed, she found Crowe waiting just across the alleyway. "Hey there," she said, tipping her tricorn hat. She seemed to have favored that and an ordinary coat over a coat with a hood, and Lunafreya had to admit that the look suited her. "Almost didn't recognize you."

"Good," said Lunafreya, looking around. "Where are the others?"

"Nyx is scoping out the place, and Libertus is getting us a couple rooms at the inn," said Crowe, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. "Assuming there are any vacancies, anyway. There might not be—lots of refugees."

"Right," said Lunafreya, looking up and down the street. From what little she knew of Lestallum, it was not a very large city, but the festival made everything seem harder to navigate, and there _were_ quite a few refugees. "Is there a designated meeting place?"

"Outside the inn, vacancies or not," said Crowe, and beckoned Lunafreya to follow her up the street.

As they entered the marketplace, Lunafreya found that she was wholly unused to this kind of crowd. It felt almost like a dream, something strange and hazy and neither pleasant nor frightening. She had certainly been around this many people before, most recently at the gatherings in Altissia, but… not in a context like this, loud and warm and smelling of sweets and spices. (Lunafreya's stomach growled, but she ignored it. She had dealt with much worse training than this.)

It took some time for them to traverse the marketplace, if only because both Crowe and Lunafreya ended up distracted by some sight or sound more than once—most prominently by a merchant selling beautiful hand-dyed scarves in every hue—but they arrived outside the inn just as Libertus emerged.

It took Lunafreya a moment to recognize him: he, too, had opted for a coat and a tricorn hat, and it suited him no less well than it did Crowe. However, even as he approached, he was already shaking his head. Lunafreya guessed what news he would bring even before he stopped before them and said, "No vacancies."

"Damn," said Crowe, though didn't sound surprised. "Does Nyx know?"

"Do I know what?"

Lunafreya turned, and immediately blinked a few times as if to clear her eyes. Instead of a shirt, Nyx wore a wide metal necklace—almost more like a piece of armor—and a few scarves secured by leather belts, with a white scarf around his head by way of hood. It took Lunafreya a moment to adjust to the style itself, not to mention how revealing it was.

Crowe whistled, but Libertus just sighed. "No rooms at the inn."

"Damn," said Nyx, in exactly the same way Crowe had said it, and Lunafreya gave a small smile at the similarity. "I don't know the area beyond what I've just seen, and it's not like I can tell if one place is better than another if we want to keep a low profile." He turned to Lunafreya. "Do you figure we could ask that old lady another favor?"

"I don't want to impose after everything Rhoda has already done for us, but…" Lunafreya let out a soft exhalation. It was true that they had few other options. "I suppose we should ask if Iris knows a place, at least."

"If she's still there," said Libertus. "She was closing when we came in."

Even without words, it was clear that a consensus had been reached, and they set off to retrace their steps more quickly than usual, this time circumnavigating the marketplace. In so doing, they could hear each other well enough to make conversation. "I meant to say this earlier," said Nyx, glancing over at Lunafreya, and she found herself fearing the worst until he continued, "I didn't know you knew Iris."

The relief that flooded Lunafreya seemed disproportionate; she was much more tightly wound than she had thought. "Yes," she said, trying to find the right words. "We may not be close, but I am at least acquainted with those Noctis calls friends." Lunafreya wished these hoods did not obstruct her peripheral vision so much, so that she could look at him as she spoke, but she did not dare to remove it. "How do you know Iris?"

"She's the Shield's daughter," said Nyx. "I don't know her _well_ , but I've seen her around the Citadel a few times, and she's seen me. And I know her name—not sure whether she knows mine, though."

That marked the end of the conversation, all of them focused wholly on getting back to Rhoda's shop. Without paying conscious attention to their route, Lunafreya was unlikely to be able to find her way back to a place she had only been once, but it seemed Nyx did not share that difficulty. She supposed it made sense, considering that the others had apparently elected him as a scout.

As soon as they arrived back at the shop, Nyx tried to open the door, but found it locked. Libertus muttered a curse under his breath, drowned out by the sound of Nyx knocking, but there was no answer.

"But Rhoda should still be there, right?" asked Crowe, turning to Lunafreya as though she might have an answer. "I mean, if she was so sick that Iris had to run the shop alone, I don't think she's fit to be out and about." She paused, evidently realizing she had just answered her own question. "Yeah, never mind. I guess she won't be able to get down the stairs on her own."

"What now?" asked Libertus. "Should we wait here for a while, just in case? We don't have any other leads."

"Seems like all we can do for now," said Nyx, leaning against the door, and looked Lunafreya up and down. "It's not like anyone will recognize you in this getup, anyway. But I still feel like people are watching us."

"It's because you're barely wearing anything," said Crowe, nudging him. "Put some real clothes on."

"Hey, I'm wearing plenty," said Nyx, nudging Crowe back. "The sun might be down now, but you'll be envious when you're burning up tomorrow."

As the two of them launched into their usual friendly bickering, Lunafreya turned her gaze up to the dark sky, wishing she could see the stars. It was true that they took some time to emerge these days, until the night was natural, and the gloom made them fainter than usual even then. Still, they were _there_ , and their multitude made Lunafreya feel less alone. Yet in Lestallum, it was all too likely that the lights would drown out the stars, even once they emerged properly.

Lunafreya was not sure how long she stood there, lost in thought as her eyes searched in vain for stars, before the rustle of plastic caught her ear. She turned to find Iris approaching, bag in hand, though she stopped as she noticed them. "You're back?" asked Iris, looking between the four of them, but seemed to catch on, cutting Nyx off as he began to explain. "You need somewhere to stay, don't you?"

"That would be nice, if you have someplace in mind," said Nyx. "If you don't, we do have our camping supplies. Even if it's a little late to look for a proper haven, I'm sure the outskirts are still safe enough."

Iris pursed her lips. "I do know a place, but you'll have to wait a moment," she said, holding up the bag. "I have to get Rhoda some dinner."

"Of course," said Lunafreya. "Take your time."

"Thanks," said Iris, unlocking the door, and disappeared inside.

They waited. Lunafreya was about to look up at the sky again, though she did not know what she sought—comfort, perhaps—when Crowe spoke. "We'll need to call you something," she added, looking sideways at Lunafreya. "Something that isn't your name, or your title. It crossed my mind awhile ago, but…" She trailed off, and Lunafreya inclined her head. Crowe probably hadn't wanted to disturb her while she was grieving.

Even knowing that she had to think of a name, Lunafreya's thoughts remained drawn to the night sky, and she realized that her answer was written in the constellations yet invisible. "You can call me Stella," said Lunafreya; _stella_ , an old Lucian word for the stars, and a root word in Lestallum. Lacking a surname, she thought a moment longer. Perhaps something resembling the family name she so rarely used. "Stella Floris."

Libertus just nodded, but Crowe smiled. "Nice to meet you, Stella."

"Glad to have you with us," added Nyx.

The door opened, almost startling Lunafreya, and Iris emerged, free of her bag. After closing the door and making sure it was locked, she gestured for them to follow her, barely looking at them before she started walking, and they hurried after her. "This way."

Lestallum's residential area was even harder to get through than its marketplace, or at least, that was the case with the less affluent part of it. The system of alleys was almost labyrinthine, but Iris seemed to know it well. She led them along without so much of a hesitation, Lunafreya grateful the whole way that she had been forced to keep up on her exercise, until she finally halted at a door with peeled paint and knocked.

"Who is it?"

"Iris," said Iris, and the door opened to reveal an old man. "And some friends," she added, much more quietly, as the old man's sharp eyes swept over Lunafreya and the Kingsglaive. "They need a place to stay."

"Come in, come in," said the old man, standing aside, and beckoned them in. "Any friends of House Amicitia are friends of mine."

It was a tight squeeze, especially once a young boy came out of another room and stopped short as if in awe, but there was room enough to close the door behind them. The place was small and a little run-down, but colorful and cozy, and there was a smell of cooking stew. (Lunafreya's stomach growled again, and this time, it was harder for her to ignore; she only hoped no one else had heard it.)

"Lady Lunafreya, this is Jared Hester," said Iris, gesturing. "And this is his grandson, Talcott. We're all staying in Rhoda's place for now."

So that was why Rhoda herself had been staying in the attic above her shop. "It's a pleasure to meet you," said Lunafreya, inclining her head, and curtsied. If Iris was trusting these two with her identity, she felt it was only right to do the same. "These are Nyx, Crowe, and Libertus. All are Glaives, and have been protecting me along my journey." She chose to leave out the small detail that they had effectively kidnapped her. It would not do to divide any loyalties.

"It's an honor to meet you, my lady," said Jared, bowing, and Talcott followed suit, eyes shining. "And you, Kingsglaive. Thank you for your service." He indicated his grandson. "Talcott here has always held an interest in your line of work."

"Oh, really?" asked Nyx, quirking an eyebrow, and Talcott nodded shyly, hiding his arms behind his back as if forcing himself not to cling to his grandfather. "We'd be glad to have you. The earlier you know what you want, the sooner you can start preparing."

Jared looked on as the Glaives and Talcott spoke, but glanced in Lunafreya's direction. Sensing that he wished to speak more privately, Lunafreya looked around and backed away to a slightly more secluded corner, Jared following. "I heard about Lady Sylva, my lady," said Jared, his expression solemn. "You have my sincerest condolences."

Having expected most Lucians to revile her, Lunafreya was disarmed by his genuine tone, but could not afford to show her surprise. "Thank you," she said, mustering a smile even through the now-familiar twinge of renewed grief. Wishing to change the subject away from her mother's fate, Lunafreya tried instead to find a way to voice her desire to carry on the duty of the Oracle. "Do you know of anywhere I might be able to heal others?"

"Hang on a second," interjected Nyx, and Lunafreya realized with a jolt that though Crowe and Libertus were occupied with Talcott, he was watching her very carefully. "Isn't that a little dangerous? You have no idea how many people might be out for your blood."

Lunafreya shook her head. The number and nature of her enemies were irrelevant to her calling, and healing Rhoda earlier had reminded her how desperately her services were needed… and how much of a sense of real purpose it gave her in return. She had somewhat lost sight of it since her marriage. "The Oracle has been away from Lucis for too long, and I have a duty to its people."

Busy with checking the stew, Iris looked as though she had something to say, but her countenance was nervous as she looked around at the Glaives. Even though none of them were looking in her direction, it would be too obvious if Lunafreya asked to speak alone with Iris now. So she simply made a mental note of her expression, and glanced up as Jared diffused the tension by suggesting dinner.

After a brief scramble to find dishes and seats, they ate in companionable silence. It was only slow-cooked stew and bread on the verge of going stale, but Lunafreya had not realized how much she had missed hot meals until this moment. Though she had felt hungry within the past few days, it had still been difficult for her to choke down her allotted rations these last few days. But now, in good company and eating good (if simple) food, she did not have to force herself to eat.

When they were all done, Lunafreya tried to insist on cleaning up after dinner, but Jared enlisted the Kingsglaive instead, and she instead seized the opportunity to consult with Iris about her possible options in this place. "Iris," said Lunafreya quietly, and Iris looked up from laying out fresh placemats. "May I have a word with you?"

"Sure," said Iris, casting a surreptitious glance over at Jared—who nodded almost imperceptibly—and followed Lunafreya out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to go full amateur and over-describe anyone's outfits, but I _do_ have very specific ideas about which AC protagonists' outfits would look best on them: [Lunafreya](https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/assassinscreed/images/5/5b/ACS_Evie_Frye_Cosplay_Reference.jpg), [Crowe](https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/assassinscreed/images/e/e5/Finalized_Assassin_Aveline_-_Concept_Art.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140215011107), [Libertus](https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/assassinscreed/images/a/ac/621796_20121030_screen002.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160819150919&path-prefix=ru), [Nyx](https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/assassinscreed/images/b/b7/ACO_Bayek_-_Concept_Art.jpg), and even [Aranea](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/be/df/e0/bedfe01019cfb57602bde92f41e444e1.jpg) (Crowe wishes).


End file.
